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Copyrlghud. 1884, by BIADLI AND Anna. Entered at the Post Office at Nuw ank, N. Y., an Secnnd Chm: Mnil Mum. Nov. 19. 1884.

vol  $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, mm No 45
I I I I

“ Yen“ No. 98 WILLIAM 81"., NEW YORK. “"0 Cum"

BUBKHflRN BILL; or, The Red Rifle Team.

BY EDWARD L. WHEELER,

AUTHOR OF “DEADwoon DICK,” "D01‘BLE IiAGGIHlH,” 12115., ETC.

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 Buckhorn Bill.

 

Buckhorn Bill;

THE RED RIFLE TEAM.

A Tale of the Dakota Moanlhinerl.

 

BY EDWARD L. WHEELER,

AUTHOR or “nannwoon DICK," “nousm: moss-as,"
“DUFFAID an." “ son woour," “ wxnn was,"
“aura-nos," “run PHANTOM muss."

“ onn AVALANCHE," “ Jm BLUDBOE, JR...“
am, ind, arc.

 

CHAPTER I.
A TERRIBLE Rider‘s WORK.

“Go on. Chub l" s ke a clear ringing voice, which
was that of one of we persons. who were crossin:
the mopnlight's glory u n a wild rolling expanse of
prairie. not half a bun red miles north of old Fort
Alexander, in Dakota. “Go on. you beast. or l'il
wallop ye till ye can't stand alone. Durnedest lazy
hoes—wish the old folks would 3 ‘ll him."

“ Shall we reach home before long. Bill?“ queried
a sweet girlish voice, that of the other rider. as she
urged her horse up alongside that of the boy. ‘-
hope you are not going wrong."

‘ Pooh! no," replied the outh, with a laugh of re-
assurance; “ye kea take 0 d Chub 'way down into
Kmsas, an‘ no fear but what she’d find her way back
to dad‘s ranch."

These two night riders were respectively aged six-
teen and fourteen—the first a boy the other a girl.
Evidently they were brother and sister.

The boy was well-developed, with a form of strik-
ing ace and outline. each muscle and nerve large
and rd; life from infancy on the frontier had im-
parted to him God‘s greatest ifts, strength, health,
and a promising approach to he manhood.

His face was ru dy and smooth, his eyes brown
and sparkling, and his hair short and of a dark hue.
He was attired in bucitskin trowsers, with a
waist-coat of some coarse cloth belted around him,
and a slouch hat over his brown, short curls. Hmas
armed with a handsome repeating rifle, this was all.
No display of belt-arms made he; he was evidently
conten w th his own trust piece.

,Eis horse was a wiry litt e old beast of part mus-
tang. blood a fast traveler when necessity demand-
ed. ut habitually lazy and stubborn.

The youth’s companion was avery prett little
picture of girlish beauty and innocence. S e was
smaller than her com nion budding into fullness
of form, with a swee . shy face framed in a half-
wreath of sun , golden curls. and eyes of blue
which at once cu’foke the gentleness and purity
of her young h . She was plainly attired in
calico. and unarmed. and with her straw hat off,
and the breeze tossing her wealth of.hair’about, she

loosed like a fairy as she galloped gracefully along,

mounted upon a stanch, well-bottomed little Indian

Don!

t'lll'he two in countenance greatly resembled each

0 or.

They were the children of a ranchman named

Burnham, who, with others. had started a colony

about sixty-live miles above Alexander several years

prior to our story. ,Thls colony had been immense-

y so What only had it brought thrift and

ante rise in unsettled region. but had scatter-

ed se tiers for many miles around thro h an ex-
. tenslve tract of rich ng country. radually
civilization had come in until Burnham’s colony was
widely known, and Philip Burnham was a man of

great no

 

Leaving his Ifinch /nnder the charge of his wife

 

and youn son. he had engaged in speculation on
and an it was‘not uncommon for him to be ab-
sent rom home for weeks at a time.

It was for the pur se of learn! his whereabouts
that youn Bill an his sister in made the long,
terrible t p to Fort Alexandr-r, and were now re-
turning toward home. and an anxious wife-mother,
with no intelligence from the father, who had not
bfen heard from since his departure, a month pre-
v ous.

The news at Alexander was discouraging. He
had not been seen there.

"Tell e what— uess the old man's puckacheed
to t ri of us an we might as well crawl home.
an let him siift upon his own responserbilities.“
Bill had said, and they had started and got thus far
on their journey.

It was a Mauwous night in the beginning of Au-
gust, with agentlc breeze whispvring through the
tall. rus ling rass and the moon pouring down her
whole voluminous gift of mellow r diance n 1]
mother earth. Away, miles to the east. like a slmr
thread in the gold, ran the waters of Rubicon creek,
in a Zig-zag course; to the west a dark line delinea-
ted the existence of a belt of timber; far to the
north lay Burnham's colony. and beyond that still
the iron track of the Northern Pacific railroad, as it
pointed toward the rising sun. Over all hung a e-
culiar haze, rendering objects at a distance in is-
tinct. despite the glorious efl'ulgence of the moon.

3‘ Go ‘long, Chub; ye ain‘t got more nor a dozen
miles to go, yet, afore yer nostrils will smell 0' now-
mown ha ,an’ ye ken berry er nose inter a fod-
der-trons; As for myself, reckon I‘d like ter
{malice ther acquaintance uv a good squar' meal,

00 n

“A dozen miles yet. Bill? It seems to mo that I
could never ride that distance, I am so tired.“ sighed
the girl, as she gazed ahead over the rolling expanse
of rairie sea.

‘ You're tired, are ye. Maolin! Well, sis. cheer
up an‘ we‘ll soon git bum. in good shape. Reckon
ma‘am will be mighty tickled ter see us, ‘spite the
fact that we haven‘t any news from dad.‘

“ But. why couldn’t we sleep on the prairie, Bill,
and then go on in the morning?"

“ 'Ca'se why. I don’t keer about heviu’ ther buz-
zards roost onto my carcass. Buzza aire un-
common lean, and bun this year, wi‘ more stor-
aga capacity thun ever eforo. 'Sides, ’tain‘t any
too safe for ordinary mortals ter be- caught a-sleep-
in’ on these l.‘yl'ere peraris, now‘days.”

“ Why. Bl ?"

“ Dunno why, sis, but ‘tain‘t safe. Heerd an‘ old
chap sayin’, up at Squatterville, thet there’s mighty
strange things a-gom‘ on in thes kentry around us,
what would puzzle a Methodist preacher. Guess
he know d sum more‘n he told too—leastways, at ap-
peared so tor me. An' I’ve ficked up a few p‘ints
alo back. w‘at war interes n‘."

" 0 you think there's going to be trouble with
the Sioux, Bill?”

‘‘No, not unless these devils 0‘ white cusses gets
‘em roused. Don’t reckon the dare do much so
nigh ther fort, though old Red ose is full as mean
a skunk as old Settin' Bull. No. ’tain‘t lnjuns—
thar ain’t a-goin’ ter be much of an open commo-
tion' but there’s devlltry a-goin' on. every day, w‘at
we on‘t know about."

“ What. Bill?" Maolin asked.

But the youth did not re ly. His head was drop—
ped upon his breast, and h 5 whole athntion was en-
grossed ln some perglexing thought.

Thus they 110 along through the haz" of the
beautiful nig t, t e thudl thudl of the horses’ feet
beating a strange tattoo upon the turf. .

All nature seemed lulled ntoasweet smiling slum-
ber, its breath only coming in faint little puffs; not
the chirp of an insect or the note of a bird was
heard; a strange. drowslng silence‘pervaded earth
and atmosphere, such asyon no doubt have often
observed on a quiet Sabbath day in the country~

.—

 

 

Buckhorn Bill. 3

 

the sweetly peaceful country where on the Lord's
D , rest and peace are for 1. so unlike what you
flu in our big cities, with their restless turmoil.

Steadily the two night-riders kept on; as if catch-
ing a far-away seen of their home pastures. the
well-worn steeds now needed no urging, but pushed
ahead with a manifest eagerness.

By and by they dashed over the crest of a prairie
hillow, and down into a little valley or seam, with
which the face of nature was furrowed over and
over ain.

H lessly they rode down into the little valley;
then there came an awakening.

Without warning their horses were seized b the
bits and thrown back on their haunches. and a ozen
pairs of stout hands gave assistance in pulling the
two astonished travelers from their saddle-V.

The moonlight seemed to glow down with double
intensity, jus then and Little Bill was able to sur-
vey his captors, while they Were occupied in binding
his hands and feet.

There were at least twenty-five of them, all burly.
muscular fellows with lon beards and masks cov.
eriug their faces from the t p of the nose to the root
of the hair, giving to them aweird aspect. They
were dressed in ainted buckskin of a crimson hue,
and wore lum slouch hats.

The lea er was a tall, portly man, but closely dis-
guised, so that no one having seen him before in
finother guise would have been able to recognize

1m now.

Yet something made Little Bill believe that he had
seen him before—where or when. he had not the
slightest idea.

The two ca tives’ hands were bound, and then
they were rep seed and bound upon their horses.
A consultation was then held. after which the leader
advanced. surve ng the youth savagely, through
thee choice in e mask.

“ ou’re Phil Bumham's son. ain’t ye?" was the
hoarse. growling demand. and the speaker stepped
a few paces off.

. “ Reckon I am." Little Bill replied, without flinch.
mg. " What difference does it make to you?"

“A great deal, you young cuss.“ was the reply;
then the man turned to his followers:

." Mount. boys. and let’s be off. The captain will
be b'ilin’ of we don’t hurry up «'1' the brats."

A general mount was accordingly made. and the
cavalcade set off in a direction slightly nor'westerly
to the course Bill had been follow 11:.

First. however precaution had been taken to gag
and blindfold the captives. and thus they were
neither able to see or speak. during what seemed an
interminable ride.

When they were taken from the horses at last.
and their eyes uncovered. they found themselves
among the same crowd of masked rufflans, only
deep down in the wood-tangled depths of a dar
ravme, which Bill never remembered having seen.
wide as was his acquaintance with the surrounding
country.

The moon was sinkin westward with diminished
piowcr of light. which 5 owed the observant youth

at morning was not far 01!.

Very little of the moonlight penetrated to the
gulch bottom throu h the overhanging tree-tops, so
that the captors ha lighted a fire, and into the re-
flection of this the two prisonerswere e .

A man stood in the light of this fire. whom Bill at
once concluded was the captain of the gang.

And he was not wro n his supposition. as was
plain, when the man s e.

He was a short, thlc ~set person, attired in buck-
skin, and masked like his companions.

Little more could be said of his ap earance, on
account of his face being tpartly concea ed.

He advanced closer an peered searchingly down
into Little Bill's face. with eyes that seemed on fire.

“Are you sure you're Phil Burnham‘s boy?” he
questioned. doubtinglg'.

“Yes, I am." was t e reply of Bill, ashe began to

.—
O.

 

bristle with wrath. “That's the second time I’ve
sed so, to—night, thou h tain‘t none 0' yer bizness
whose son I am. I an no all ther same.“

“None of your sass, boy' this is no time for
parley. I’ll tell you why we have brought you here.
and you can judge by our looks if we are men to be
trifled with. We are what is khown as the Press-
Gang. Maybe you have heard of us—mayhe you
have not. We ress men into the service of the
Government, to ht down the Indians. 'l‘o desert
means death."

“ Git eutl" Little Bill exclaimed. contemptuous] .
as the other paused a moment. seeming y to no a
the effect of is words. “Don't try to stuff that
kind of tail down me. I know better. shall I
foty all! ye. Yes, ferl kin do it. true ter nature.
Yours :1 gang 0’ ruifians. known as the Press-
(iang, and a set of human fiends. You pounce
upon men and force them to swear a horrible
oath of silt ance toyour band. or you kill them.
Tom Terner refused. and he was found
Your victims are made to work, somewhere. where-
ever your den is. but what the work at. the Lord
only knows. Guess ou didn‘t now this much of

our secret had in ed out. did you? Didn‘t know

olks are beginnin‘ ter keep a sharp eye? Yes. I‘ve

heard 0‘ ther Press-Gang, an' so’ve others. An’ no
one don‘t allow that a man 0‘ yer clan fights ag’in‘
ther red devils."

The so tain listened to the boy’ss eech. atten-
tive] , bu with a dark scowl in under is mask.

" on are laboring under a delusion." he returned
with a turn on the heel. “ But. you cannot fool us.
You know what we want of you, I dare say. Your
father. Phil Bumham, has been one of uscfor over
a year, and we trusted him. But now we find that
he has deserted and betrayed us. For a month we
have been searching for him. but without avail.
We have seen on o to Fort Alexander—gm: must
tell us where hil urnham is hiding. the we ma.
find him and put him to death. Speak! wher is he? ’

"I do not know!" Bill replied. firm] . " v went
to Fort Alexander to find if he was here. He has
ngttbeen home for a month. My sister will tell you
t a .

“Bah! I’d b'lieve you. sooner than her. Women
are all liars from infancy, u . We know your dad
has not been home, for a we h has been kegt upon
your cabin, and only last night we pal your
mother a visit and hung her u to a convenient
limb, because she refused to ivulge the secret.
We will know the whereabouts of the traitor, so you
had better shell out." >

“ I don’t know where m fatheris; neither didm
poor mother!" re lied ill, tears standln in h
eyes as he thong t of his dear. kind mot er. and
the horrible knowledge that these human wolves
had murdered her. Maolin sobbed and wept pite-

onslv.

" Don‘t tell me that, you young whelpl“ the ca
taln of the Press-ng cried. fiercely. “You 0
know—you communicated to him when at Fort
Alexander. Don't deny it; 'tis useless. You shall
tell us. or we will first kill your squalling sister. and
then yourself."

“Don't tell, Bill. if you know!" cried Maolin,
bravely, aheroic light shining in her eyes. “We
can but die."

“Neither will I tell 'eml" Bill said. grimly, “for
we don‘t know nothin‘ to tell. K ll me. you durned
shysters. if ye‘re bloodthirsty, but let Maolln clone.“

“No. she shall die first!" cried Captain Coffin.
savage] . “I give on five secondsio tell. One!”
1] Agd the rufflan be d a cooked revolver at Maolin'l

es .

“ Two!” will you tell?"

“I don't know!” faintly replied Little Bil]. trem-
blingnfrom head to foot. ‘My God. Kaolin. what can

“ Nothing, Bill—on] avenge me!" the brave«
hearted girl replied. w th a wonderful calmness. be-
yond her years. “ You can tell them nothing."

 

 

 

4’.

“Four I" cried the radian; “ ick, boy. ‘tis your
last ch woe to save your sister's fe.’
" Would toGod I could. but I do not know dad‘s
hidin -place i" the boy replied in a hoarse voice.
" ital” There was the sharp report. and poor
Maoiin sunk hack lifeless in the arms of her guards.
But the scene was not yet ended. With a wild.
ringingI yell. n horseman dashed straight down
throug he gorge where the rufflans were standing.
Bill was torn from the grasp of his guards, and in a
moment more the horseman and h s rescued prize
were gone out of sight. far down the ravine.

 

CHAPTER II.
"0 runs Luna—ran strenuous.

Two years! Such is the lapse of time which oc-

curs. ere we again renew acquaintance with the cha-
- racters introduced in our first chapter.

Two years that had brou ht changes In Northern
Dakota. 11‘. ration had coded in. here and there.
to adorn and utify. and although the territory
was yet comparatively a wilderness. there were
many leasant scenes. where the colonists bad locat-
ed an built homes that were by no means rude.

in two cars Burnham‘s colony had become wide-
ly exten ed. with a in of wealth and thrift awry-
where, and althoug ignored by the map-makers,
wasatract of settled country of no mean import-
ance. '

Upon a fertile and extensive prairie ocean the
colony was situated. where timber and water were
at hand, in quantities.

It boan of a thrifty trading-post. named Squat-
terville, where commerce was carried on with the
Indians, but of this more anon. All around the Post
for miles rolled the grand majestfc sea of emerald.
with human habitations scattered here and there,
and fertile ranches under tange and growth.

In mid-prairie with the scorching rays of the
August sun pouring down upon his head and shoul-
ders. crouched a youth of manly face and figure-
crouching low in he mirie grass. which waved and
rustlai noisily in the maze that blew aridly down
from the north. He was. ,rnaps. eighteen years of
age. with a wellvdevelope figure, of medium hight
in which were both ace and, physical strength. and
a face. which, thoug‘ ,1 sunhumed from long exposure
to the sun, was good-looking,

- We are not writing a mess of fiction. where every
character of worth is to be made handsome as an
Adonis; we choose rather from realty. and delineate
our characters as the are in life, or were at the
period of which we w te. which was not long ago.

It was a plain. regular and classic face. which a
sculptor might love to model after. All the features
were faultless and well-raunded;. the mouth firm
and habitually set in a resolute expression; the
forehead high from the heavy eyebrows to the roots
of the curling brown hair. The eyes were brown,
and bri llant—at times as sharp as those of a lynx.
who can see furtherthan any animal of the quadru-
ped kind. No hair. exce t a very slight mustache,
grew upon his face; a 2 nor. only was required to
tell that he was older in wisdom of the world than

n years.

His dress was buckskin from his moccasins t1 his
hunting-shirt, all fancifully fringed with Indian

work: a slouch hat for his curls lay by his side
on the grass. plumsd with a drooping eagle's fea-
ther, and pinned up on one side with a pin with a
device like a red hand. carved out of bone.

His arms consisted of belt-weapons of fine pattern
and finish. while his rifle was one of Evnns’s best,
and a repeater at that. Attached to his belt was a
horn. from the head of a young deer. hollow and
gold-mounted at one end.

This was the buckhorn from which the hero of
our narrative drew his name. It was a horn of pure
tenor tone, a single blast from which could be heard
for miles over mountain or prairie. v

 

Buckhorn Bill.

Buckhorn Billl I cannot make myself believe that
I am taking for my here that noble youth, who but
a few months ago bade mo. adieu (is he returned
westward ho! to the land of his birth.

But it is of him, whose c-x crience has been more
eventful, perba 5. than the of half the young men
on the border, t at I write.

The prairie around him, as he crouched below
the grass-t0 s. rolled off in undulating waves (is far
as eye cou d reach. dotted here and there with a
matte of timber. or silvered with the sinuoslty of a
winding streamlet.

A few buffalo grazed peacefully away to the north-
west. and a herd of antelo es were just visible on
the cap of a distant billow; ut nature drowsed on.
as if naught but eternal rest and harmony were hers.

it was not the buffalo. neither was t the deer.
which Buckhorn Bill was watching. and which had
caused him to drop into the grass. There was little
to be feared from them. and the young rover evi-
dently directed but little thought or attention upon
them. His eyes and whole mind were concentrated
elsewhere.

From where he crouched. the land billowed sharp-
ly 03 on the western side into a. prairie ravine or
valley of considerable depth but very narrow, which
was one of those furrows in the face of nature we so
often and unexpectedly chance upon in the western
prairies. It ran f )r some miles in either direction.
and you would not have suspected its existence un-
til you stumbled. as it were. ri'vht into it.

Riding leisurely through itsbottom in a westerly
direction. were two horsemen, both of them Indians,
and of the Sioux nation, as was apparent. to the
young watcher at a glance. They wore war—paint
upon their faces. and it was evident that they were
out on a raid after horses or food. I

" It is Red Nose and Lon" Death !“ muttered Bill,
a. dark scowi coming over his face. at some bitter
recollection.

“ Where can they be going. alone and unaccom-
panied by their warriors? Reckon there’s sum devil-
try afoot. or else I‘ve lost my reckoning. They‘re
following this hidden ravine, and avoiding the prai-
me.

While he spoke. the two chiefs rained in their
horses, and gazed directly up toward where he was
crouching.

He quickly dropped flat. but was too late. They
had caught a glimpse of the swaying grass. and an-
nounced their discovery by a couple of inquiring

nts.
graying flat. Buckhorn Bill carefully laid his rifle
aside, and drew his revolvers. while he waited the
issue. He had no doubt but that the savages would
come up to investigate. and he was prepared to do
the country a favor by dropping the red butchers.
one by one.

But to his great surprise. they came not. This
caused him to make a careful reconnoissance. and
he made the discove that they were gone!

Whither or how. e knew not. On horseback.
sure] . for their horses were gone, but he had not
hean them move.

“ Well. this is another link in the chain of mystery.
which I am devotin my life to break and unravel!"
the youth mnttere . sitting “Ell'l'fllt. and rubbing the
sweat from his face, with h 8 hand. "Phew! the
smiles of that sun'up yonder are getting rather too
warm for this busmess. and I oEine I’d better strike
for shade. Don't suppose t era’s any enemies

around.’

To satisfy himself on this subject. before e osi
himself. he raised his slouch hat a little wafibogg
the top of the grass on the muuie of his rifle.

Ping! there was a sham. spiteful re rt of a
riillf,‘?nd a bullet cut. away the handsome p time like
a n e.

“ Too bad 1" Bill muttered. picking up the feather,
and repinnin it to his hat. “ 'Ruther they’d ’n.‘-
punched a ho e in my hat. ca’se how Jessie Latimer
give it to me to remember her by. Guess according

 

Buckhorn Bill. 5

 

to that shot, that it ain’t healthy for one to show
one‘s self."

For several minutes Buckhorn Bill sat. and listen-
ed. He could hear no one approaching: silence
biooded over the great plains. ‘

“’Spect that wasn’t an Injun, nohow, for ’twsr
too straight a shot fer one o’ ther red rascaliions.
\. ouid just like to know what kind of an ludervidual
hcd ther cheek tor s it death at me. Can it be that
any of the accurse Press-Gan of Captain Coffin
are laying fer me? Ha! the de ' ought to know by
this time that it is death to fool around me! I‘ve
perforated at least a dozen of ’em through ther top
story, and still Bill Burnham‘s score ain't full—a
score ag’in’ ’em what ’1] last as long as this Captain
Coffln and his Press-Gang e ists.

“ Maybe it is ther fools, a ‘in, thinkin’ they've got
me as snug as a bug in a rug."

The young Scou laughed in his grim peculiar
we , as he restore his revolvers to his belt, and
too n his handsome rifle.

Fort 8 ast two years. since he had lost his be-
loved mot er and Sister by these border outlaws.
Bill Bumham had known no ermanent home ex-
cept the foresr, and prairie; ad lived for nothing
except vengeance upon his enemies—the destroyers
of his once happy home. For the liurnliam ranch
he had put into other hands, well knowing that his
wild spirit would never hear confinement to stock-
raising or a riculturai pursuits. He was well known
to Captain offln and his gang, having proven l‘iin-
self a remorseless foe to them. Time and again
had they trapped after him, and planned for his
capture, but he had ever with him the wit and power
to csca )9.

Tillitllt. was the Press- Gang who were row besieg-
inr: him. he was not positive, et he had but little
doubt of it, for the reason tho. he had cause to be-
lieve them in the vicinity. It was to learn the truth
of the report that he had ridden down from Squat-
terv lie.

“ ‘Tain't Red Nose nor Long Death." he muttered,
“ and tharfori- it's the Press-Gang. Wonder ii.’-"

Ila did not finish the sentence.

A rustling iii the grass but a little ways ofl, arrest-
ed his attention, and he again bent forward in a
crouchin attitude, listening intently.

Evident 1y some one was crawling through the

ass, wli cli all over the prairie had grown hi it

igh, and was as dry as wder. ’Who it was Buck-
hom was ui able to tell, at he held himself in readi-
ness to greet either friend or foe, for some intuition
seemed to tell him that this was no toe approaching,
with so much noise.

“Dem it!" he heard a voice mutter at last; “cf
thar ain’t ernuthcr uv them confounded spideri'i
Thet makes six hundred, even, tlict I‘ve found
within ther last hour. Tlier grass aire full on ’em;
likewise, full 0' human spiders. Reckon this old
siege 0‘ Paris checked one 0‘ them pesk galoots'
baggage for Salt river. Wonder who ’twar he pesky
loafers pooped at over in this direction! Shouldn't
besurprisc ef thar’s emuther hen-peeked arson
like myself, abroad on these prairies. 0h. rdy.
why did ever run away from my dad and
mum, an' cum out ter missionize ter ther hoa-
then? Reckon my mission’s contained more lead
than religyun an' l’arnln' "—wlth an audible chuckle.
"Don't su pose I’ve converted many Injun souls,
but I've bin mitey handy in makin’ items fer obituary
editors. Go] dangnaiioni ef thar ain’t ernuther
spideri Never see‘d ’em so thick, except when I got
married ter old Jemima Spiltover, an’ she throw a
hull table-load 0' kitchen utensils—mostly spiders—
at my pericranium. Hallo ! "

The speaker had crept along so rapidly in concert
motion with his tongue, that before he was aware of
it he had brought h s countenance in contact with
the gistols of Buckhom Bill.

“ eiloi" the ounfiScour-ge echoedl also evident-
ly sin? . .“ ld ephant, as sures I'm a livin’
koon.

 

“Yes, thet‘s ther identical fl, uratlve deskri tion
uv yer 'umble servant, a go oot." return the
other. “I thort et war a ress-Gang-ite."

“So did i," replied Bill. with a laugh. “Didn’t
expect to find you down in these ‘ei-e parts. no
more‘n I’d have expected old Sittin’ 'Bnil. What
you after, Elephant?"

" After? Waal, I‘m originally in these parts as a
missionary, to save 1njun souls, an' civilize the hea-
ihen, but, at piesent in leisure moments are devo-
ted ter ther inquisitive usiness."

Old Elephant outwardly was a curiosity even on
the border. »

He was of about the average hight of men, but
very fat. Every part of his body was obese. His
face reminded one of the countenance of a full
moon. Judging from appearances, he must have
weighed in the neighborhood of two hundred and
seventyfive pounds. Yet. wonderful to relate, he
was as nimble of foot and di-xirous of movement as
a man who did not weigh half that amount. ‘

All along the Dakota frontier he was widel known
as a scout and Indian—fighter of note; he ad dis-
tinguished himself as a brave and intre id scout in
many battles, and was univei-sall adm and re-
spected by all frontlci'smcn is smooth, -
natured, fat face was indicntive of his osen cart
and mild temperament; yrt he was a den 3 enemy
to the red-man and their worse brethren, e white
outlaws.

With Buckhorn Bill be was an especial favorite.
for the Boy Scourge had found him possessed 0
much knowlrdge and good-judgment, and a willin
friend in an hour of need. And the fat scout ev -
dent‘y was equally an admirer of the youth whose
life. was one for vengeance.

“ Yas," he continued. a few moments subsequent
to his. last remark. “I’m follei'ln' the:- trail 0' in-
qiiisitiveness. Or. in other words. tryin' ter find out
w'at’s ter be found out concurnin’ Captain Coffin an'
his Press-Gang.“

“ Just what I‘ve bin ti'yin’ for do myself, and fail-
ed." said Bill.

“ Waal, thet ain‘t much ter be wondered at, when
oi: war only h accident thet 1 found out about it.
A teller iiiig t have searched a lifetime without
iindin' out.“

“ Then you’ve a clew?"

"You bet yer salve: ion I havel I know what this
Press-Gang is for, an’ what becomes 0’ ther men

)ressed into service. I know what aire all the m s-
erious lights thet sire seen on dark hts on t e
raiige‘,‘ an' everything else, except the en of those

ev .

“ And what is the secret. Ele hantf"

“listen and I‘ll tell ye '1‘ ese Press-Grang-ites
belong to a great distilling organization, which long
has been a secret to the Government, which pro-
duces illicit whisky, and smuggles it up to the North-
ern Pacific, from whence it is forwarded eastward.
These men are known as Moonshinei's. and have
their quarters somewhere within or near the scope
of Bumham‘s colony."

CHAPTER III. .
BQUA’I‘TEBVIWA mm FAIRY IN mum.

. Squmavrus, the only post of Bumham's colony.
and indeed the nearest collection of habitotlons
known by any name, short of old Fort Alexander,
was rather a pretty place. despite the fact that it
was the home, principally, of squatters, who would
not pay renis nor do unnecessa work. Th had
concentrated lit-re, as if by man ous oonsen , and
built their little frame shanties, and the Government
probably thought their trespassing. as long as the
country was so sparsely settled. of little or no ac-
coun .

,The ante rise of a steam sawmill had been start-
ed, for tim l' was plenty, and thereby a means of
easy building had been lProvided; con lienth the
place hadbecomeavi sgeofascoreo dwe I

 

 

 

' 6 Buckhorn Bill;

aside from a con is of stores. a blockhouse, and the
aforesaid sawm .

All around the Post. as it was more frequently
called. were many thrifty ranches and fine farm-
houses, for riches were t ere scattered among the
coin and they took pride in adorning and
beautif g their homes.

But with these we may have little to do.

Under the shadow, almost. of the great steam saw‘
mill, whose busy hum could be heard night and day.
was built a modern two-story cottage, of much
more pretentious finish than its neighbors. It stood
upon the bank of the darkly-flowing little river.
down which logs were floated from the nor‘western
timber re ion; and beforeltstretched a pretty lawn
shaded W In trees and ornamented by shrubs an
beds of blooming, fragrant flowers.

A‘Elacid-faced, matronly-looking little woman sat
in e front doorway of this charming little home
one hot August (is —the same one, by the way, on
which Buckhorn Bi] and his fat friend, 01d Elephant.
had met upon the prairie. She was sewing, and
though seemingly preoccupied. her eyes occasion-
Mlyegaled off toward a dark stretch of timber, a
ml or so beyond the river, with an expression of
anxiety and expectancy in n her face. She was
but a plain. common-look ng woman, of say forty
years, at something abowt her was interesting,
someth ng that was good, pure. and of the kiudllest.

Busily the cleft fingers plied the needle. as the
hot day were toward a close. Evidently the little
matron was watchm' g for some one‘s coming. and as
the night drew on, and a great mass of hunder-
clouds rolled it in giant piles in the western heavens,
she manifes great uneasiness.

“ Why don‘t Pearl come?" she asked herself, over
and over again. “ She well knows she ought not to
stay so long—and the storm coming on, too. If Bill
should come—” I

She did not finish the sentence, but compressed
her lips with rather a forbidding grimness. as there
was a wfld, girlish hurrah. and then a horse and rider
came splashing throu h the river amid a storm of
sg‘gg. and, a momen later, the 'Pearl in question
3 before her elder companion, wet from top to
toe. and a very fa! queen of flowers and ferns.

It was a gracefu well-chiseled form, that of this
girl, as was revealed by the clingin . water-soaked
garments, that sat closely to her age; it was a

retty. sweet face that peeped from eneath the

m of the broa'ibrim straw hat, which was heavy
with its loads of flower-wreaths—a pretty face, deli-
cately carved, and tinged both with the beauty of
robust health and the merciless kisses of the sun: a
face one could worsh’p for its purity alone, if not
for its roguish sweetness. The eyes and eyebrows of
brown and the hair of chestnut shade harmonized
well with the face; the lips of cherry‘s ripest hue.
the haughty little chin-all combined to make up
the pretty Pearl of the Prairies.

The grave look on the face of the woman in the
doorwa , could but vanish before the roguish smile

of the rl—the sixteen year old woman who was (he
girl and ri ie of the Squattervillians.
“Well. earl!" the tones were not angry, but chid-

-“ have you come at last?"

, ‘Yes. Aunty. dear; don't on see I have—don‘t
you see?" and! the little white and patted “ Aunty "
under the c .

“ b! I’ve had net the most glorious ride you can

imagine—and sue hosrs of flowers as I found; and

I saw an Indian. too, Aunty. making for me. and

you bet I skedaddiedl Poor Pet." with a wry glance

at the sorry-looking chub of an Indian pony. who
had curled down upon the edge of the lawn—“I
guess he won't want another race for a week."
“You are a naughty l to sta away so long.
and give me such uneas noes, Pear. It is not safe
for-yougo go alone upon the prairies. and in the

_ “Pcohl Aunt l Please don‘t annoy your darling
with acurtsln ecture. You know I and Chub can

 

 

show our heels to any danger. There. now, that's a
dear. so don‘t say any more. but hunt Mother Hub-
bard‘s dog a bone, while I go put Chub away, for
when I come back lhave something of importance
to say;" and just here the sweet face became pale
and sober, as the girl walked away. She had her
own way in all thinfi. at Prescott cottage. had this
little Queen of the ilderness; her childish imperh
ousness was perhaps too often homered, because
they all knew that Pearl was a pet, and good and
rue.

Am! so Auuty Prescott rose and laid aside her
work; hurried into the cos 3y little back kitchen, and
laid the spread. and had a plain but substantial r(-«
past awaiting ere my queen returned. She came
at last, and dropped wuarilv into a chair, with a sigh
as if the world and the woxdd‘s cores were too great
for her to combat with.

“You have been ovordoiug, and are all tired out,
child 1“ said Mrs. Prescott, as she hustled about.
“ Does our head ache?—-shall I put a wet cloth
around t, dear t"—and maternal solicitude was in
the bearing of 8 good woman.

Pearl was not her child. but a child of her own
flesh could not have filled Pearl’s place in her love.

"No! no! Aunt , you can do nothing in that line.
for I am not tire nor does my head ache. Ihave
simply been worrying."

“ wrying/ Land of goodness! you worrying,
pet?” the good woman exclaimed, in astonishment.
“ What is the matter, pra '?--what ever causes you
to worry, with your ga . g adsome spirit."

“ Oh! the guy can ave trouble as well as the
sob ,‘l‘. Auuty, but they sometimes hiJe their aime-
tion under a deceptive mask of smiles. The rich.
the poor, the wicked and the righteous all must ex-
perience trouble and worry.”

“ Ah! yes, child. our words are only too true.
None can escape t is scavenger of time—trouble.
But what in the world has pu you into such a s.-r!-
ous fit?"

“0h! Aunty, I have discovered that I am in no
we. related to you—that Bill Burdvlle is not my
fat er—‘that I am merely a trespasscr upon your
hospitality. I need not tell you how I found it out—
it is enou b that it is true. Ohl Aunty. what secret
is there a at my birth and life. that you have kept
hidden from me i“

She had risen to her feet, and stood proudly erect.
her eyes shining. her lips Eartcd, her face sulfused
with a strange, alned flus .

Mrs. Prescott ad also brcome flushed. and shrunk
away beneath the young girl’s accusing gaze, trcmh
ling in every llml).

"Pearl! Pearl!" she said. deprecatiugly. as the
fairy was about to continue—"don‘t! don't! You
know not what you are saying. Who has been stud-
ing our brain with such utter nonsense?"

" t isn't nonsense. Auniy—for I shall still call you
so—it isn‘t nonsense, and you know it. and I know
it, and God knows it. Acknowledge the truth—you
hrn not. my aunt. are you ?"

Mrs. P escotthcsitated. compressing her lips tight-
ly. To acknowledge this was like running a knife
through her sensitive. motherly heart.

“ No. I am not," she articulated. finally. in a faint

“i knew it—nor any relation of mine?" Pearl pur-
sued. eagerly.

“ 0h! child, don‘t ask me."

“ Yes. yes: you must tell me the truth.”

“Oh! God. this is torture. No, Pearl,l am in no
we related to you. except as a companion."

' Which makes no difference, aunty dear. for I
shall love you all the same." and the girl threw her
arms impulsively around the elder woman‘s neck
lovingly. “I only. wanted to know the truth. an
you cannot blame me. i am well satisfied without
fiuestioning you. that Bill Burdelle is not my father.

very instinct is my nature rebels against him as a

rent: and besides. I have other grounds on which
0 base my knowledge. But, for you. dear Aunty, i

 

Buckhorn Bill.

' 7

 

would tonight bid this place ood-by. forever, and
oout into be world. w ere could makeaname
or myself. You know the names of my father and
mother Aunty. and where they live. .do you not?
Ohl tell me. truthfully.“

“ No. as God is mijudge. I do not, child. I know
nothing of them—w ether they are alive or dead."

“ Does Bill Burdelle?"

“ Probably; but, if so, hehas never communicat'd
such intelligence to me. He is fierce. vindictive, as
you know, and I have never dared to pry into his
affairs.“

" You certainly must know something about me?"

“No—nothing. I was paid to come to Burdelle's
cabin. when you were but a child. to care for and
assume ardianship over you. I knew you were
not Bur elle‘s child. for to my knowledge he had
never been married. Besides. a glance to d me that
you were no child of his.”

Poor Pearl listened with her face pillowcd on ht‘l‘
arm which rested over the hack of the chair; listen-
ed with tears droppin from her pretty eyt s. for
this was an awful re tion to her bright young
spirit. that she was nobody‘s child.

She had ever been in a measure a little proud.
even to think that Bill Burdelle was her father. for.
though rough and brutal by nature he was a popu-
lar and influential man throughout the colon . where
he had dealings with whites and 1'. ds. e wasa
trader by occupation. exchanging guns, ammuni-
tion, provisions, clothing and whisk for furs and
Indian work; it was a circulated "0:0 in Squatter~
ville. that for every gallon of w isky he sold. he
drank two himself. He was a man of contradictory
traits of character; villainous and unscrupulous in
many things; honest. unrl ht and fair in others; a
man whose career had ma 6 him equally feared and
res ected.

is coming‘ home to the cottage was always
dreaded, for e never failed to be more or less in-
toxicated. and if everything was not to suit him. a
terrible storm ensued.

Pearl in these times, was the only one who could
quiet him; a few words from her lips had the effect
to subdue his passion and make him ashamed of

imself.

“ You will not go away. Pearl?" Mrs. Prescott said.
tenderly. “ Your home here is pleasant. generally,
and ]you know you have man friends."

" know. Aunty. but it wil not be long ere gossip
will call me a nobody; I will he ointed out as a
thing of doubtful origin. Then, should want to
die. If I were to go elsewhere. I would try to drown
out the past as best I could.“

“ But see how many friends would miss you!
Then there is one I think would miss you more than
all the rest."

“ You mean Buckhorn Bill?"

“Yes. He isa fine young fellow."

“True. Bill is good—ant nice: but really. annty. it
never quite seemed to me that we should everhe any
nearer to each other than friends. i don’t think
that Buckhorn Bill will ever marry. at least. not
until he has completed what he calls his score of
vengeance. And that will be a long time, for it will
not be an easy task for him to battle off the myste-
rious Captain Coffin and his men."

“I know. But has he never spoken to you of love
or hinted at such a thing?"

“ No: of course not. The idea of two babies like
us talking of love and marriage! Of course I like
Bill—all the girls do—and Bill likes me; so if he pops
the question to me. very likely I shall pop back!"
and with a merr laugh and seemingly forgetful of
her recent troub e. Pearl ran a.an upstairs to ur-
range her disv'lrdered dress and brush her hair, pre-

amtoetx to tea. While Aunt Prescott inwardly
thank God that the trouble had taken no deeper
root in Pearl's young heart.

She came down. later. looking so fresh and sweet
in her summer lawn attire, that Aunty could but
halfsmother her with kisses.

 

" You are looking so lovely, child. and I am lad
of it, for there comes your ath-I mean Bill ur-
delle. accompanied by a you gentleman."

“Yes. and do you know w 10 that young gentle-
man is, Auntyf” replied Pearl. her lip curling with
contempt

“ N3; I‘do not think I have ever seen him. my

“ Well. I have then. and seen all I want to of him.
too. It’s that impudent loafer whom they call Royal
Ralph, and the same one who but a week 0 in-
sulted me at the part in the block-house. He lungs
around the village an is a declared nuisance. What
ever is cousin Bill Burdelle to brlng.him here. I do
not know. I or one will not see him. for 1 shall go
to It?! room and not come down till he goes away."

“ es. child you had better go “ said Mrs. Pres!
cott. anxiously; “ for Bill is ‘ full ‘ again to night.
and I like not the looks of his com anion. He has
a general sneakish look. and ‘ villa n ‘ is written on
his evil face. i have a foreboding of something
wrong which is to happen."

CHAPTER IV.
THE mm mam man—ran nvs'rmnous BLACK nasn.

Nton'r's shadows were cree ing over the rairie
with rapid strides. Along the eavens roll great
masses of when black clouds. and the mntterlnfis of
thunder became louder and hoarser. Occas'on l a
tiny zigzag streak would lighten the gather ug
gloom; then the wind would sweep along with a
strong puff.

All the probabilities of a stormy night wire it n
the face of the sky. yet the rain for some time fa led
to come. except in occasional huge drops.

Appareml . judging by his facial expressli' n. this
was not tot w satisfaction: of a lonn horseman. who
was pushing his way over the prairie mounted upon
a handsome animal. which hilt the alppearance of
being nearly done for. as it had but ttle ambition
left and was dripping with sweat.

The rider in question was a man of some fort
years. very stout of build and attired in the ri
garb of a citizen of the more Eastern States. despite
the fact that he was a Westerner. Everything
about his make-u 'u. from his patent-leather boots
to his massive go :1 chain. diamond shirt- pin and
glossy silk hat. bctokened a man who was weslt y.
and not used to manual labor.

As he is to lay a part in our life-drama. we may
aswell int uce him asJudge Fowler. ms g
agent for the lands which were included in what was
known as Burnham‘s colony. A word of explana-
tion may not be amiss.

Philip Burnham had taken up the land individu- ‘
ally from the Governmt nt and from distant States
1 ad bl ought colonists to purchase and settle afor-
tion of it. The tract being immq use. a e s are
of it yet remained unsettled. Therefore urnhain
had nppointg‘d this Judge Fowler, a man of some
wealth and liberal education. as assistant in helping
him dispose of the lands. Upon the strange d sap-
pearance of Burnlmm. two years before. Fowler had
found himself placed wholly in control of the prop-
' rty—as manager for the chi htir. who was our
Iiuckhorn Bill. He had built h a home and land-
ot‘flce adjacent to the Burnham farm-house (which
was a matter of three miles from Squatterville. and
leased out to a family of Ohloans). and here carried
on the business and lived the life of a bachelor. He
was seldom visited b the young heir of all the prop-
f'iity. and so had t ings pretty much to his own

y us.

He was not a handsome man. for his form was
rather too stout. and his smoothly-shaveu face too
fat. Yet he was quite popular. and often was con-
sulted concerning law matters. as he possessed a
:imatterlng of Blackstone. and other legal authori-

es.

What brought him out so far from his residence.
with a stormy night staring him in the face. is for us
to find out as we progress.

 

 

3 Buckhorn Bill.

 

He evidently was not in the best of humor, for he
goaded his jaded animal on mercilessly, while he
occasional?v swore roundly as he peered around hun
into the u ckening gloom.

“The evil take the fellows, and the storm, tool"
he growled. as he drmv rein luon a loftier billow
than he had yet attained. “If get soaked by this
nin, I‘ll lick a certain rascal until he can‘t sit a sad-
gleh I don‘t see whorc‘on earth the camp can

9.
He blew his nose, vigorously and was about to
start on again, when a low, peculiar laugh arrested
his movements.

" Hello! who the deuce was that I heard laugh-
ing?" he exclaimed, locking sharply around, with a
start. " Hello there~who are you?"

There came no answer except the dismal moan of
the wind over the rairie. The wind was blowing
stronger, too, and he thunder was louder in its
hoarse mutterings. The storm would soon burst

orth.

“ Confound it, I am getting as nervous as an old
cat. and imagine I hear things when Idon‘t. Go
along. you beast. and we’ll try and find some place
to shelter ourselves." ‘

The horse struck into a feeble trot, and the dc-
scended the swell to the more level prairie. Sn den-
ly the animal shied, and nearly dumped the Judge
out of the saddle; but he saw the cause of the
am'lght, and saved himself.

A blood-red rocket had shot up into the gloom of
the night, an '1 after describing a. graceful curve, de-
scended’nlowly. and burst into a. shower of ten red
stars, which did not dio out until they reached the

grass.

The rocket had ascended to the west of the night-
rlder, and in thisdirection he turned his horse.

“I’m on the right course. at least, thank ood-
nessi" he muttered, “but that came u a. coup e of
miles 01!, I should judge. Come! omel go on,
Racer, and we‘ll soon get there."

As if deriving some encouragement from the
words. the tired animal sped alon as fast as its
wanted strength would permit, w lie the judge
kept his eyes riveted upon the gloom ahead, for em

hing he hoped to espy a camp-fire light to guide

m.

The rain continued to fall in occasional big drops:
it acted as if it were holding off for the traveler to
reach his destination.

Sooner than he expected he saw a fire-light gleam-
ing down before him, in the depths of a rairic valley,
and ere many minutes he was cha longed by a
picket uard.

“H o! halt! Who comes there?” shouted aston-
torlan voice, followed by the click! click of a gun-

k.
“ Ohl it’s all right—it's I—Judge Fowler, of squat-

~ terville ” was the assurance, and the horseman con-

\

-th

tinned ride forward.

" Halt !" the guard bellowed. “ If you value your
life, an’“ hold up, till you are hidden advance."

“ alt it is, then, you cussed fool," announced the
judze, irreverent] , “I don't see what you need be
so darned 'fraid a ut. when it‘s only one man."

I‘Our motto is. ‘ It’s allus safer to be on the sure
sidel’ " was the response.

Then there was a painful silence of several mo-
ments, during which he thunder growled more omin-

' ousl , and the drops pattered down faster.

“ arse the rain! curse the sentinel!" grumbled
the judge. “If this water ruins my hat, I’ll thrash
thunder out of him—I will, sure's my name is—"

" Comeahead, old bu'stover,” here yelled the voice
of the guard! “ Ride straight through the willows,
and ypu'll find the captain and the rest of the boys,

ar

Fowler accordingly rode through the willows as
directed, and arrived in cam in safety.

- There was a camp-fire hazing h ghtly. around
which were gathered nine men, either sitting on
logs. or reclining or smoking their pipes. For the

/

 

most part they were young men, the oldest not ex.
ceeding thirty-five, while the leader, who was evi-
dently the youngest, was about twent -three. He
was a flue-looking young fellow. with a rank, honest
face, dark eyes, and brown hair and mustache. Be,
as were his companions likewise was clad in a. buck-
skin hunting costume, colored blood red, and black
slouch hat with red plumes. -

Closely stacked near by were nine of Reming-
ton‘s latest imp oved re eating rifles, the stocks of
which wore painted red n unison with the costumes
of the rangers.

Considerable surprise was manifested, among
these men, as they saw the old judge ride into camp
and dismount, bu they spoke no word indicative of
this surprise.

“Good evenin’ !" the traveler said, as he drew
closer to the fire. and took off his fashionable silk
hat to see if the falling tears of Jupiter Pluvius had
(lama ed it. “ Look’s as if we are in for a big storm,
does i not?”

“I should sa so," replied the captain of the hand,
dryly. “ Wha ever brought you out here. this far,
and all prospects of a tearln’ night? Who be you,
anyhow?"

‘ Eh? did you not receive warning that! was com.
int?" demanded the judge, in amazement,

“No! we received no warning; indeed, we know
you not, bei sir ers in these parts."

Fowler nod ed an smiled understandingly.

“Yes, I know," he rejoined. “ But on see I am
a new member, recently added in. at accounts
for your not knowing me."

“Hum, vs,” assented the captain, while be ex-
changed nqniring glances With his comrades.
“ Who sent you i"

“The P. of the Ii. W. R!" replied Fowler. “ I can
give Iqycu the shake, it you desire."

" 0 need for that, I guess," was the reply. “ I
suppose you are the bearer of news eh i"

b " am, if you are the Captain Coffin I take you to
e

“ Yes, you may call me Captain Coffin, although,
of course, you understand that is not my real name.
What news do you bring?"

“Some dispatches in that cursed secret cipher.
out of which I can make neither head nor tall. I
was down at Fort Alexander, recently, and the Pros-
ident induced me to become a member, which I did,
by receiving the initiation. The President then
gave me the dispatches, and ordered me tobring
them to on."

“Ah! hat‘s 00d news. I have been looking for
orders. By th s tune there must be a goodly stock
of ‘moousnine‘ on hand, read for transportation.
I should now be at the he uarters, only that
Black Snake Nelson, the usual eader of the men,
here, is unwell, and ordered in. Have you the dis-
patches hnndy? I’d like to look them over."

“ Certainly," re lied the 1udge, importantly, as he
produced a well- lied wallet, from which be ex-
tracted a large document sealed with red wax. and
addressed to Captain Coffin. “Here. sir. is what I
was commissioned to bring you. And, ihw. what
accommodations have you for a fellow, until morn-
ngi

“Yonderare a couple of tents by the willows,"
said Coffinz indicating a couple of canvas marquees
near by. ‘You can find shelter under them, with
the earth for a bed. That‘s what we men call accom-
modations. But. hold! would it not be safer for
you to return to Squattcrvllle under cover of dark-
ness? This prairie is full of scouts and detectives
who are lay n2 for us. and to see you leaving our
camp. might amuse sus icion."

“Hang the suspicion! growled the flu , making
for one of the tents, as fast as be con d waddle.
“Don’t think I’m fool enough to ride all the way
home throu'zh a soaking rain. do you, and spoil my
hat and best suit? No, sir-es! Money's money,
nowadays, an' a man has to be savinz."

Accordingly, the ,messenger was left to enter the

 

Buckhorn Bill. 9

 

04“
-—l-— Q

011

smaller tent. and soon his loud snoring proclaimed
that he was wrapped in oblivion.

“_Now. then!“ said Captain Ned Stockton. with a
satisfied smile, “ what do you think of it? Didn't I
tell you our coming was not for nothing? The Red
Rifle Team has struck a field where both ingenuity.
craft and good shooting will be brought into play.
This old codger who has so opportunely stumbled
down among us, believes us to be the accursed Press-
Gang, and that I am the inhuman Ca tain Coffin.
Here we have in our possession dispatc es from the
president of this whisk gang—perhaps the most
gigantic one upon the. ester!) border. Now. there
lays before us a nth of duty which we must follow.
Let‘s 0 en the (l snatch; that may throw some li ht
u n t 6 subject; we may learn where this illicit
w isky distillery is located."

“ Had we not better wait till we are. alone?" asked
{felt Everette, glancing suspiciously toward the

en .

“Nol” Captain Nod re lied. quickly: “we must
0 en it now. so as to flVOi( suspicion. Go see i! the
o d traitor is really nsleeg."

One of the Team accor ingly cautiously approach-
ed and pooped into the tent. Yes, the worthy (or
unworthy) judge, was lying prostrate—Morph unwed
beyond a doubt. ‘

pon learning this. Stockton tore 0 en the wrap-

er, and spread the invssage out upon is knee. As

owlvr had said, it was written in cipher—in an in-

congruous mass of “hen-tracks." (On this 

is a co y of it, as it came into the possession a l e
Red R tie Team)

“There is your secret ciphe r," said Ned Stockton,
with a chuckle. “if any 0’ you’ve had education
enough to read hivroglyphlcs, go ahead and tell us
what she says.“ '

“Dang it, ldon‘t believe any one can read them
scrnwis," replied Dick Reade. "Nor 1 don‘t believe
there's any sense in the matter."

” There is undoubtedly a meaning which would be
readil understood by this Captain Cot'fln." said
Stock on. closely scrutinizing the document, while
he ran his fingers through his straight. Indian-like
hair. “There is knowledge in them scrawls that
we must acquire.

“ Let me see: the first is a letter C. I notice that
letters may be found all the way through. Hum,
yes—C-a-p-t. and a eriod. That means Ca tain.
C-o-t-f—i-n—Coi’fln. I a! Captain Coma. So at so
good. l-l-l-i-c’i-t, illicit; w-h-i-s-k-y, whisky. Illicit
Whisky. See! there‘s more here too. Loo-n; that
ends the letters."

“And yourintormation. also " laughed Hal Ever-
ette. " ou’ve had your trouble {or your pains.

“Iguess I‘m snagged, sure enoug ," said Stock-

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it 3‘ ton, grimly. “ But I ain‘t at all discouraged yet. if
h" s one could make out these hen-tracks. the right mess
a" sage would be forthcoming."

“ Maybe the old bu’stover knows " suggested Fen
gobinon‘.‘ “Supposin’ we go and induce him to

s or e.

“gNogi no! I’ll wager my rifle he cannot read the
mess, or he would have been more profuse with his
ton ue. No, he is ignorant. and hfliess we shall have
to we up stuck. We‘ll kee t paper. however;
some time it may come in p sy." ”

So saying he was about to retold it. when sudden-
I a lar e black hand reached over his :houlder
gem be ind. seized the dpaper, clutched it between
the talon-like tin ers. an withdrew. With cries of
wonder, all gaze around. but the mysterious thief
was nowhere in slghti

CHAPTER V.

prcxma on mum: mums—0N was un anon.

Bnoxnonn BILL was not surprised at the strange
revelation made by Old Elephant. as together they
crouched in the tail prairie ss near I e
the bank. which looked oi! ate the deep chum or
prairie valley. He had been reputed to hear al-
most anything of a criminal no ureeoncerning these

—.,
—__

¢x§-0"'

‘0
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d“ .‘1 

“0 M1
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rang. 

 

 

.1; 1;. z .. .r A ~.. . .. =

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10 Buckhorn Bill.

 

men whom he had sworn to kill off, one by one.
until the Press-Gang and its advocates were a non-
entity—t-were things of the past rather than of the
men .

p “I have suspected as much all along, Elephant "
he replied, tho htfully. “I have kn own that devil.
try was abacko it all. yet was unable to come to
any definite conclusion. The dun-nod skunks have
kept their secret well an‘ of they‘re as sharp on the
guard. we may as well ive over the aflair to anoth-
or generation. Where 0 the hold out?”

“I ken’t tell you, my ga uck. but ef we ken’t
trail out that much, after owin’ w’at we do. we
orter be eternally chewed up by crockyfiaters. We
know that these infernal imps aire whi y distillers;
It remains fer us ter find out whar they coop. Shall
we work together, or shall we go in on our own in-
derwidual, thiee-pronged hooks i"

" Was]. i reckon thet we‘d better do each our own
flggerln and slaughterin‘," replied the young
Scour , with a grim smile. "I reckon we‘d get
along bout as well. You‘ve got your own object-—
mine is one of vengeance. and I shall pursue it to
the death. The spirits of my dead mother and little
Mnolin call ugon me in ever hour. I am constantly
haunted by t cir voices. an know they plead to be
avenged. God maggudge me. w‘en it‘s all over, but
I reckon 'twon't very hard for riddin’ His fair
earth ov a recognized curse."

“ Dunno how that'll be, boyce, but (la! n my (lon-
key‘s ca ity fer fodder ef I blame ye. Yci‘pm‘fcct
.1me e. an‘ ha r‘s w'at kin help ye wi' a strong
heart. S’pose ye‘ lcontinny around these parts?"

“ Yes—until my vengeance is fulfilled, and the
Press-Gan and these illicit producers of hell‘ilre are
extinct. hen I ma perhaps change my life. al-
though I shall ever ve a strongiantipathy to ruf-
flans and Iui’flanism. The oath swore OVer little
Maolln’s grave was taken doc to heart—my hatred
for evil-doers knows no quail cation.“

And the stern. terrible glitter that came into the
cyses of the speaker. was more than assurance that
h words were not idly spoken or meaningless.
He was deeply in earnest in his retributive work—
imbued with a burning thirst for vengeance which
would not. as yet. be appeased.

“I an pose there‘s some 0‘ the Press-Gang in
thevicin ty. now. eh 9" he continued. geerin around,
but tagging care not to expose his end a vs the
grass- ps.

“ Yas. ye're est on ther right trail ter Biblical
truthfulness." lephant replied, with a chuckle.
“Thar’s ther hull family uv ‘em, scattered around.
an‘ they've got an idea thet they kin snatch you
bald-headed. fer et’s known among ‘em that ye’re
hayr. That's why I tumbled down hayr—ter min-

is my pills wi' ourn in ther teat work 0’ rid-

in' ihes commu t uv n cont on—a great caver-
tin’ catalogue o’ s n nn’ sorrer. Bully chance fer
sharp-shutin‘, an‘ I propose thet we open tber per-
formance wi‘ an overture.“

Saying which the fat scout thrust his head above
the and gmered over the dun waving prairie.

ill niled him back. just in time to
escalpe a volley of . ng bullets.

“ own i“ cried Bill. “‘Tis death to ex so your-
self thet way. No use 0‘ tryin‘ ter fig t ‘em in
that fashion. fer the ‘ve got the top drop on us.
Little more‘n‘ ou‘d in‘ a stiff.“

“Yasl yasl’ muttered Old Elephant. grimly. as
he rubbed one of his ears which a bullet had
scraped; “ ther pesky devils are’s sassy as a swarm
o’ disturbed hornets. Never see‘d a set 0’ roughs
that wouldncqual them for imperdence and pure

noes.

cussed

" What less could you expect of men whose lives
are ruled by that soul-curse of the e—whisk r"
replied Billf hitteurg. “As much as love my fe.
ElephantJ I co see whisky and all intoxicating
liquors banished forever from use. I'd say plug it to
me—I’m ready ter turn in. Yes, I would. for I
loathe the very name of. whisky."

 

The reports of several rifles now rung out upon

the air. loud and spiteful—nor were they far
away.
“ hem was shots from the Press~Gang‘s pop-
gunsi" said Buckhorn Bill. decisively. “ Ther s
other lurkers around, besides us. I'm going to see
what‘s n ."

“Ain‘t goin' ter stick yer head up fer a target,
aire e?"

“ o. I ain‘t so fond o‘ gettin‘ perforated. I‘ve
at something here that gets away with that—a dex-

rously-contrived invention of mirrors. by which I
can, by lying in the grass and holding itu above
the grass on top of a ramrod, see far over t e prai-
[‘19.

On producing it from his haversack. it proxy] to
be a number of small mirrors. fitted b angles into
the uare shape of a box. It had a be low depth in
one 5 do, and on the right of this was a small hole.
in which to insert the ramrod.

Buckskin Bill reviewed it a few moments. with
pride; then dropping back upon the grass. he raised
t upon the mmrod of his gun into the air, at arm‘s-

length.
e Pgave but a swift glance into the hollow. then
pass it to Old Elephant.

“ You see! there‘s a dozen heads lookin’ out o‘ thu
 I guess we‘ve got a chance for rifle-prac-

ic°. '

While the fat scout was gazing in wonder into the
ingenious contrivance, Buckliorn carefully raised
his ride. so that it laid along the grass-tops. without
exposing himself. and then remembering the loca~
tion where he had last seen a pirste‘s head. he al-
lowed the weapon to int. and fired.

An answerin yel came back. and an exclama-
tion from Old. ephant:

" Gentle zephyrs from purgatoryl” he ejaculated.
wonderingly—“ that war one o‘ thcr purtiest shots
on record. Never see‘d anything ter beat it. nor
their likes uv this glass. Et aire an eighth wonder
uv the world, an’ no mistake. However did ye know
whar thet blasted pirate war. bog?“

“ Et was only ess-work," ill replied, with a
smile. “Did I pre ty near make a stifl. then, eh?"

“ Yes— reat nephyrs. yes. Knocked atelier inter
an eta picnic, a-whoopm‘. Reckon he thort thet
a cyclone had struck him broadside. Now. let this
old deposit of fat try an‘ see if he ken‘t do ditto.“

“No; you keep watch an‘ locate 'em for me. while
{I} giv‘ren‘em a kind of jerky sense. ion about thcr

ear .

Elephant accordin yraised the glass above the
grass-to and throng i it scanned the lain.

“ Quic 1 Just back of your h is one o‘ the
yarn-lute?“ he whispered.and the next instant Buck-
horn Bill s trusty re ater rung out sharply. This
time there were two oath-yells. and a cry of great
astonishment from Old Elephant.

“Wonder 0’ wonders! W'at means this, Billiam?
Did yer shute er cannon in two directions?"

“No! I aim y aimed where you told me. Why!-
what caused hose two yells i"

“ What? Gentle zepb rs thet fanned the brow uv
old King Emuuuell hy. ye jest knocked two‘
mortals intcr ther river Jordan. quickor’n a cat ked
say me-eow. Both fell at ther same time.“

“That is strange." Bill said. lowering his rifle.
“ My bullet could not possibly have cared for more
than one rough. Some one else may be trying tar-
get practice at ther expense 0’ these whisky-
wolves."

“But thar warn’t only one crack, Billiam—how
about that I"

“ I don’t know. I didn‘t hear the re rt of an-
other rifle. Looks a little strange. The ellers ain't
playin‘ possum. aire they?"

“ No—not thet galoot. anyhow. 'Twar a Jenny-
wine piece 0‘ deathly vocalism. that of his‘n. an‘ I'll
bet my t history thet he‘s up at Jordan now,
waitm er ther ferry-boat ter tote him across.
But at thar‘s any truth in ther Bible. he’ll hev one

Buckhorn Bill.

11

 

od time a-waitin‘. ‘ca‘se ther door-keeper won’t
et him in."

“Then we are not friendless and alone among
these human badgers. Let's have the glass. and
will take a s uint. '

The valua .e little contrlvance was accordingly
surrendered and the Boy Scourge (for by this name
he was well known upon the lains of northern
Dakota) scanned their surroun ings with a quick
glance. While he was looking he saw a rifle-barrel
and muzzle lying along on top of the wavin ocean
of grass' then heard a ell of anguish, an saw a
pm rie pirate fall bacin elesc.

“Hal another of those m stcrious death-shots
without a reporti By Jovei t tie is even he and my
Bower of conviprehensioni“ Bill exclaimed owering

is glass. “ hat do you think of it, Elep ant?"

“I reckon that thar‘s only one we tcr it. Bucky,“
the fat scout replied, grimly. “ hct dumed ole
critter the Burnhmnites call Death-Shadow is
abroad again. Et‘s bin reported that be war dead,
ye know, nt I reckon he’s flopped back into exis-
tence. ‘

“ I‘ve heard much of the strange being, but nevcr
have seen him," said Buckhorn Lill, tin wzhtfully.
“ But he has heretofore used a rifle that hark d."

“Yes, I reckon you're 0. K. (her; but mabbe
he’s out ther tongue out o’ ther an moi.“

getween them the two scouts 'cpt a close sur-
veillance upon the prairie, and more than once
the caught a glimlpse of the glistening rifle-bar-
rel n the dying sun ght, and each time. the death-
yell of a pirate was sure to follow.

The roughs now kept their persons so closely
concealed that no op ortunity was afforded Buck-
horn Bill to practice iis guess-work shots with any
degree of success, and he therefore dcstsicd.

The sun was by this time kissing the western
horizon before plunging its head into a bank of
thunderclouds which were rolling up to greet it;
down in the deep valley at the right of the two
scouts, the shadows of night were already growing
in density. A breeze was springin up, wh ch was
a relief after the scorching smiles o the sun upon a
land which tieeded rain more than aught else.

“I guess 've done about all in my catalo ie
that ken be done fer today.“ said Buckhorn ill,
taking a last survey of the prairie. “The game
kee 5 low, an' we’re oin’ ter hev a s uawl d‘rectiv.
so ’m goin’ ter sli e out 0‘ this i possible. Ef
I need ye ye'll beer the old buckhorn screech. an‘
ken amble toward me as fast as e please—fer
ye kilo}? l’ll stand a good deal devi ment before I
sque .

“Yas. that’s so. Be keerful that the dumed ga-
loots don‘t flop ye, fu‘st ye kno’, an‘ take good care
of yourself till we meet a ain."

‘ You bet l’ll care for o. I." replied Bill. with a
smile, then shaking hands with the fat aeout. and
slinging his rifle upon his back. he cautiously parted
the grass and crept away.

Not toward the valley. as some would have done,
but straight along its bank, as it ran in a Western
course. He knew full well that it would be worth
his life to descend into the valle , where no doubt a.
score of the white savages were urklng.

He had never but the once, when little Maolin
had been shot, been in the wer of the Press-
Gang, and he had no wish to all into their hands
now. for he was aware that they would ut him to
death in the most horrible manner conce vable.

For he had been the deadliest and most rsistent
of all their foes—a veritable scourge w om they
feared even more individually, than they did the
stron arm of the w.

As hey had been unmerciful to his mother and
little Maolin, he had been unmerclful to them—had
become a terror, an outlaw-hunter of acknowledged
superiority; none were there as bold, fearless, cun-
hi and revengeful as he who answeredtothe name
of uckhorn Bill.

y Softly the young Scourge crept along, his every

 

sense on the alert for dan or. his ea le-e es scan-
ni the nth and its sldinggs—hii whgle ind im~
bu in t e work of escaping.

Now and then he heard voices close by: then he
you? pause until certain of his ground before going

ur er.

As he crept on, the clouds rolled up blacker and
blacker from the west and spread out like giant
wings over the face of the s . It also rew rapidly
darker on the prairie, until t ngs at a tance were
not distinguishable.

Several times in his progress the young Scourge
cartrlie near falling into a trap set by the maneuvering
0L aws.

but, each time some strange intuition warned him
of the danger in time for him to €606. o it. And at
last he concluded that he was out of tile cordon that
had been woven around him.

“ Now, then, let the imps guard the prairie—they‘ll
find one parcel of their game missin ," he muttered.
" Hope the won‘t get hold of OldE ephant. though.
Wou dn’t h 'e ter have him argolized yet awhile.‘

Rising to his feet. he hurried along briskly in a
western direction. In the course of half an hour he
descended a rairie slope. and passing through a.
belt of scrub y timber, mixed here and there with
old dead pines which the li htning had blasted, he
came out upon the low san y shore of a little sheet
of water. known as Loon Lake. from the fact that a
species of birds of this name had beenfound swim-
ming u on its waters.

Buck orn Bill started back with an exclamati'm
of surprise as he saw the water lying before him.
Wide as was his ac uaintancc with this country, he
had never yet stum led upon this lake, although he
had heard of it frequently.

Another thing surprised him, too.

A slight girlish figure was standin at the water‘s
edge, not a down yards from w era the young
Scourge had halted.

CHAPTER VI,
was nvnrn or run LAKE—FRIENDS MEET—A cum
DECOY.

Recuran BILL was not a little surprised at seeing
the irl. Least expected of all, was the finding of
her ere, where human habitations were not—where
growling rcd skins came in the summer months, to

unt and fish.

“I wonder who she is?" he muttered, standing
back among the shadows, and watching her.
“Graceful and rett of build. and I reckon she‘s
pretty of face, e afe er could at. a lim se ofit.
About sixteen or seventeen. oor aoln would
have been sixteen (0-day, had she lived.”

A deepregretful sigh escaped the lips of the Young
Scourge and his face was shadowed lily an expres-
sion as ark as the night around him. ehad never
forgotten the great wrong; the murder 01 his little
sister was ever engraven forcibly upon his memory;
—he could not lose sight of it.

For several moments he stood under the trees. at
aloss what to do. The girl was standing in the
sand, with the waves of the lake lapping t e shore
at her feet, apparently in a deep reverie. as she
guard out over the water which was shrouded in
darkness, too deep for penetration by the human

eye.
As Bill had observed. she was graceful of form

bein roundly contoured and develogebd, and o
med um stature. Her face which the y Scourge
was unable to scrutinize. it being av. rted was finely
chiseled and pretty luscious] tinned with the roses
of perfect health. her mout was small and ewes t-
ly expressive; her eyes brown, and her hair, worn
waving down to her waist was of the same hue.
She was attired in a light calico dress which reached
to the ankles exposing a pair of prettily slipper-ed
feet. Around her waist was a belt eontai n a
knife, and upon her head a ribboned straw hat. at
far away a light skiff rocked against the beach, and
showed the mode of her transportation hither,

 

 

Buckhorn Bill.

 

“ I wonder what she‘s doin over here, anyhow?"
Buckhorn Bill muttered, is curioaity growing
stronger every moment. “ It kinder :appears to me
thet et ain’t natteral fer a gal ter be alone out h or,
so fur in the wilderness, unless there‘s somet ng
back of it. Don‘t think I’ve seen her anywhere,
either, unless I‘ve for otten about it. Must have
come across the lake, udgin‘ by that boat. Wonder
of she lives over there, or what? That's the question
before he debate court.

“ Kinder like ter know what she's up to, an’ who
she is; but, jest as like‘s not she‘d feel insulted of I
war ter introducs myself to her. So I don‘t know
what to do. She don't seem ter hev any ijee et‘s
goinz‘ter rain, neither. ‘Spect she‘s waitin‘ for some

onel

B this time nighthad set in with its full darkness,
an the lone watcher on the beach was hardly dis-
tinguishable from where Bill was standing. The
thunder was growling along the threatening sky, the
wind was pufflnifltfully through the trees, and zig-
zag streaks of ii tning played over the black storm-
clouds, overh The rain would soon come in tor-
rents, and Bill made up his mind to act, in prefer-
ence to standl in idleness. He would go forward
and speak to th s strange nymph of the aka-shore,
and learn, if possible, her business out here alone.

He was about to steal forward on his errand, when
he detected the sound of a footstep in his rear, and
wheeled about, quickly.

“ Don't be alarmed, ’ said a pleasant voice. “ Guess
I ain't no painter ner grizzly, as is oin‘ to mount.
You’re a urty feller, ain‘t ye, stand 11’ heer a- azin‘
at that a under, like as of you’re lovesickl’

“ Wei , w ose business is it i" Buckhom demand-
edvpleering around. trying to outline the speaker.
“ o are you, and what are you doin‘ a—prowlin’
around here like a red Varmint? Got anotion ter

. put a lead telegram after you, on the strength of my
suspicion that you're a pirate "

“ Humphl on your ear. ehi“ replied the other,
good-naturedly. “ A wasp stung ye, thar. or sum

eathen bin fingering fer yer scalfi. Needn’t plug

or pills at me—I ain t no pirate. y name’s Turtle
om Fraiiey, trapper and b‘ar-ketcher, at yer ser-
vice. You’re Buckhorn Bill. I know, fer I got a
micr'l'copio view uv yer handsum bazzoo, awhile

“ Turtle Tomi” exclaimed the young scourge, in
rest surprise. “Can it be possible? and every-
ody else have sulpposed you to be (lead. you have

beenuynissing so ong. Come up, and give us yer

W.

Accordingly, the speaker advanced, and the two
youn men exchanged hearty hand-shakes—for
1‘ Tom was oung, being about the age of our
hen—namely, e hteen.

His parents havin been slau htered during the
Indian cag‘aipa‘gn, w on he was ut twelve years of
age. he h opted the calling of a hunter and
trapper, which he had followed ever since.

He and Buckhorn Bill had been close friends and
companions from early childhood and until a year
before, when the young trap rhad suddenly dis-
appeared and had never been eard from since. He
wasa plain young fellow in buckskin—not one to
attract much attention from the feminine sex, buta
fellow whose manly attributes were ad dby men
generally. He had a smooth, plain face. not hand-
some, black eyes and hair, and a strengthful form.

“ By Jingol I never was more tickled to meet a
fellow in my lifel" cried Buckhorn Bill, enthusiastic-
ally._ ,‘tWhere the deuce have you been this year
or afitter. when we’ve all been mournin' you for

e

“ Well. Bill, that‘s a hard question ter answer with-
out a full stock of breath aboard, and as I’m minus
a full supply, at [present you’ll hev ter let me post-
gme mléstory " another time. What are you n

, sin: n' around in the woorl like an Injun, wit
an casthawk-like u on that leetle gal. yonder?"

my, you see I— was Just wonderln' what

 

fetched her here i" answered Bill, in some confusion.
“ Do on know her?"

" 0, but thet ain‘t a-sayin‘ I wouldn‘t like to. Din
puzzlin‘ my topography fer half an hour ter find out
what she‘s u to, but I can‘t."

" Nor I. ckon she‘s waitin’ i'er somebod ', or
else she‘s crazy, or somethin' of the kind. 13w s
jest a-goin' ter speak to her, a bit ago, when you
came up."

“I know ye was an’ thet‘s the reason I spoke, for
I didn't want yo to poke yer handsome phiz in whnr
I’d made calculations.“

“Ohl that‘s it, eh? Well, shall we pull straws to
see who goes for her?“

“ No, Iguess it ain‘t worthwhile. You sail in. an”
of ye kin scoop ther pretty craft wi‘ yer good canvas
I won’t objec .“

“Idon‘t want to invest in females further than
necessary so if you’ve got any little love Fears in
yer head, ‘11 put in a good word for you!" Hill said
with a laugh. I“You stay here, and I 11 go (oi-wan
and see what the gal is up to."

Leaving his rifle behind him, the oung Scourge
stole out of the woods on ti toe, on softly over the
sands of the lake-shore. o stealthy was his trend
that he was beside the lake-nymph, ere she discov-
ered his approach or presence.

When she did, she neither screamed nor started to
run awa v, but stood still in her tracks, and gazed at
him, one ii.

This too ' him so much aback, that it was several
momeilnts ere he could command his power of
space .

He expected nothing else thanfthat she would be
frightened, but here she stood with as much com-
Eosure as might have been exhibited by an old

unter. inured to peril and surprises.

" Well?" she said, interrogatively, looking up into
his face, studyingly. “ What do you want? '

“ [ want to now who on are, and what you are
doing here alone on this ake-shore, such a night as
this?" Bill replied, sheepishly after some hesitation.
He was becoming aware that lie was infringing upon
that which was none of his business.

“Hum hi“ and the ll of the girl curled justa
trifle. “ upoose I shou tellyou that it was none
of your business! What then?’

‘ Why, I should say you were exceedingly sassy,
as my motives are the best. I did not know but
what you were in trouble —lost. perhaps. and unable
to determine the direction of your home."

The Buckhorn‘s tones were now soft and reassur-
ing, and his language better then be general] used,
for, thanks to his mother and father, he ad re«
ceived a fair education, and it was a mere habit de-
rived from association with rough, western charac-
ters. which caused him usually to speak in the
illiterate style of the frontier.

Th]? girl 'Nyznph laughed merrily at his last re-
mar .

“ No need to fear of my ggtting lost," she re lied,
“for I could find my way the place I call ome
with my eyes blindfolded. I have Seen you, hereto-
 althongh you knew it not. You are Buckhom

, ..

“Yes, I reckon you are level, thar. How'd you
find it out?" _

" Ohl l‘ve seen you at Sqnatterville, occasionally,
sometimes at the stores—other times in company
with one you call Pearl."

“Eh? is that so? Yes, it was Pearl Burdelle, or
firesgott. as she is generally known. Do you know

er

“ Bv sight.“

“ She is a very sweet, pretty girl!" Bill said this, a
conscious flush stealing over his cheek.

“ And some one thinksa great deal of her!" the
Nymph twitted with a little laugh. “I don‘t blame
you,” Mr. Burn am: she really is a nice, lovable

Buckhom Bill whirled around in the sand on his
heel; then scratched his head perplexedly,

Buckhorn Bill.

18

 

How was this thing pro ssing? This strange
irl seemed to know cons derable about him and

his aflalrs; and he could but wonder at her child-
like familiarity in talking to him, a stranger.

“ Guess I ain’t ve deep in luv. yet." he said with
a grimace. “With her excl'ption o' my poor dead
mother an’ sister, I never hev bed a Very exalted
o inion uv ther female line—begging your pardon,
0 course."

“ You are excusable of course," was the reply.
and then she began to edge toward the boat.

“ You ain‘t going?“ Bill demanded.

“Yes. I must."

“ But what did you come here for?"

“ Ioannot tell iyou. I’d advise you as—us a friend
—to leave this v cinitv at once."

“ You don‘t say! Why?"

“Because there is danger!"

“Bahl Danger and I are old pards.
learned each other's grl ) by heart.

“ You are incorrigib 0. You should take my
advice."

“ Well. we‘ll see about that. b and by. Going to
tell me your name, ain‘t ye, be ore ye vamooser"

“ What for?”

“Chi because I want to remember you by some
name. I kerr a re istcr up hayr in my topograph-
ical construct on, w or I put own ther name an'
sum total uv every one I meet.”

“Well then. my name is Mehetihle Ann Macoa-
day wit. a little ripple of roguish laughter.

‘ it out! I know better. Pretty birds must
necessarily have appro rlate names."

“Well. then. Moi y M her."

"Which is a decided improvement on the other.
You won‘t tell me what brought you here?"

We've

“ When will you come again?“

“ I don‘t know—maybe never."

“ Yes,’ you will. or i shall come and hunt you up."

"Don t dare to attempt it I be of you! You are
in the midst of great peril. wh ch will only be in-
creased should you come in search of me. Good-

“Good-byl" Buckhorn replied. with rather a
strange sensation tugging in the neighborhood of
his young heart as he saw the nymph step into the
red-painted skim and fit the cars into the row-locks.

In a moment more she had pulled out onto the
lake and was lost from view.

W len she was one, Bill crept back into the tim-
ber where Turtle cm was awaiting him.

The rain was beginning to spal or down faster,
while the thunder rowled and unded within the
gates of heaven. ow. too. the htning occasion-
ally glared vividly. lighting up the scene around for
cons derabie distance.

“Et’s goin‘ ter be a regular old antediluvian
storm!" observed Turtle Tom. crawling in under the
shelter of a huge cottonwood. whose foliage grew
close down to the ground. "I don’t opine we kin
get a much better lace than this, eh, Bucky t“

“No! we’ll stay eer till the storm is over, and see
what turns up. See !" as a flash of ii htning lit the
heaven and earth—4 there goes the g rl, now. How
big is this lake. Tom?"

“ Three miles wide by six long. I believe. Thar’s
never bin‘ much notice taken of it because et 5-
sesses no peculiarities like some lakes. The In uns
sumtlmes come here and camp on a island a ut

a mile out from here. Its outlet the Skunk
creek."

“ Is it deep?"

“ Yes-is said to have no bottom. in some places.
This forest surrounds it on all sides "

Conversation was now laborious, for agreat racket
was occasioned by both the tailing rain and boomigfi
thunder: while the heavens were incessantly n
by the blinding glues of lightning. The rain poured
down in at torrents. and the wind blew the waves
of the lit e lake high up on the beach.

“ Look!" sudden y cried Turtle Tom, pointing out

 

on the water. where a flash of lightning revealed
two men in an open boat. clasped in a bear-like hug.
It was a momentary glimpse that was afforde the
two youths; then t e wind brought in to land a wild,
distressed c of—

“Helpl he ./ Buckhorn Bill!"

Then a si ence followed; the storm lulled. the
thunder ceased to growl.

"I must go!" the Young Scourge cried. lrsvlng
his rifle behind. “ That was Old Elephant. i reckon,
s nealin‘ fer help.“

8 bounded down to the lake and waded out into
the water up to his arm-pits. Then he ausmd to
get bearings. when another flash of lightn ng come.
When it did come. he made a horrif lng discove .
He hint been decayed—entrapped by aptain Coil'ln s
men

A dozen boat-loads of the Prairie Pirates were
rowing stealthin toward him—while others were
shutting off his retreat toward land!

CHAPTER VII.
macs. s'rnnmso AND ms MISSION.

Tnn astonishment of Captain Ned Stockton knew
no limit. when he looked but could see nothin of
the owner of that strange black hand, which b so
bolgly snatched away the message of the secret
Cl 81‘.

Elke a phantom of the blackness itself the being.
or whatever it was. had come and gone. leaving nei-
ther trail nor track.

“Quickl up and spread in every direction. Fifty
dollars to the man who catches the thiefl“crled
Captain Ned. “ I wouldn‘t have lost the message for
that sum."

A hasty search was made over the prairie sur-
rounding the cainp. but nothing of the black-Landed
thief was heard or seen. As mysteriousl as he had
come had he gone. and all ufl'orts to flu him were
unavaillng. so that the Red Rifle Team returned to
camIp empty-handed.

“ t‘s too ridiculously bad!" growled Captain Ned.
greatl vexed. “ I wouldn‘t have lost that paper for
anyth ng."

" Pshaw l“ replied Hal Everette. “ it wasn’t worth
anything. You couldn’t make anything out or it; so
what good was it ever likely to do you? '

“ None at present perha s; but hereafter we
might have brcome possesse of a key to the cipher.
Then we could have used the Information to some

purpose. "

“Well. we may be able to get a duplicate." sug-

sted Dick Reade “ All we have to do is to tell old

owler that a sneak-thief stole awzw the. paper be-
fore we could make it out, and he‘ll go back to the
pgsldent ot the whisky ring. and procure an-
0 er.

“ A capital ideal" accepted Ned. brightening up.
“ Go and rouse the old chap at once. and we‘ll ap-
prise him 01 our loss. By making him still think
that we are the Press-Gang we may be able to get
much out of him.“

“‘Shi" warned Hal in a low tone—“here comes
the old gent now. He’s illn disturbed by the racket
we made. and is coming out to see about it."

Judge Fowler. true enough, had left his tent. and
was coming toward the fire at his waddling gait. As
was surmised. his dreams had been disturbed. and
it?I sleegy anxiety he demanded to know the cause or

e no A.

Cagtain Ned volunteered to explain, relating about
the t eft and suggesting that he (Fowler) should go
back to Fort Alexander for a duplicate of the mea-
saee. This he promised. rather grumblingly. to do;
then trudged back to his tent. muttering something
about beinandisturbed again.

“We've
Ned, after they too had accepted of the shelter of
the remnining tent. because the rain was falling.
“ it this black-listed wretch will only keep his finger
out of our pie. It will only take‘olcl Fowler tour or

I
lugs working nicely. now." said Captain ‘

‘i

 

 

 

14

 

five days at the longest to ride to Alexander and
back. and we may as well stay here till he returns."

" I tell you what my ijeer is." said Dick Réade.
“ I calculate this blac -handei galoot is one of the
Press-Gang. an’ seein’ Fowler’s mistake. without be-
in’ able to apprise him. he's snatched away the docu-
ment so, that we shouldn't find out the secret it con-

“ i hope it ain't that. But. there’s no tellin‘. Hel-
101"

This latter exclamation was occasioned by some-
thing that fell at the feet of Captain Ned—a sharp.
lo arrow. which had been 3 0t through the tent
sid ng by a ‘me one from the outside.

The tail of the arrow. half-way up to the head.
was covered with wraplped string. beneath which
could be seen a bit of w ite paper.

“ It‘s a message from some unseen friend!" cried
Dick Reade. who had picked it up. “ Let‘s see what
mystery is to be unraveled by this strange commu-
nication."

With the point of his dirk he ripped off the cord.
and unwound the paper from the arrow stem.

" Hal there are two papers," he cried~"one is
the paper of that secret ci her. returned, and the
other is a message in penci . Let me see what the
contents are."

“Inciosed you will find the message which was
stolen from you by the black hand. I wished t»
know what was u amon the whisky ang, and by
aid of a powerfu lens iscovered. f you wish to
know. press a hot flat-iron over the back surface.
and writin will come to view. It is written with
mil and t e scrawls on the other side are simpl to
puzz any one outside of the Whisky Ring. nto
whose hands t eir mes 6 ma, fall. Your pro-
posed attempt to break upt e Wh ky Ringispraise-
worthy. and i wish you success.

“ Dams SHADOW."

“ Death Shadow!" echoed Captain Ned, in sur-
prise. “ Who’s he?"

“ We have that yet to learn; rrobably he’s some
outlandish old fron iersman. with a wrong to avenge,
who has adopted that dramatic nom dzplume. Now.
how are we to get the writing out of this cipher mes-
so a? We‘ve no flat-iron."

We'll have to wash off a stone, and heat it. for a
substitute," said Hal Everette. " And you don‘t
want totell anything of our getting ssion of
this messAfi‘e again to old Fowler; let 1; 1e old tubof-
fat go bac to Fort Alexander. and maybe he’ll
return with news that will be more beneficial to us."

“Yes. you‘re right," said Stockton. " Kee the
matter a secret from the old traitor and we’l use
him lwiltile wteh can. gigiistiiilint hangnlgirln up fag an ex;
amp 9 oro era 0 0 pro y. e nex
thing is a stone."

The work of improvisingahot flat-iron out of a
cold muddy stone was not one of ease, but after
re ted experiments. they succeeded in getting one
ho . After this was rubbed 01!, the cl her-mes-

sage was drawn over it several timesi whic had the

street of bri ng to light the secret lnes which had
been traced a milk. When all had been brought
/ out, Dick Reade read the fOUowing. aloud:

“ Foa’r ALEXANDER, August 8. 187—.

“Oman: Cantu—Dana sz—I write to know
if you have any more moomhine ready to ilood. for
there are several places which need sup‘plfiing. l
have shipped to Deckei's Siding. N. P. . .. four
hundred bushels of rye. which your caravan can
get, as soon as ou arrive there with' your consign-
ment of moon Inc. as usual.

“ Be stealth . for I hear rumors that certain Gov-
ernment omc have been ordered here. I send
this by a new and inane tial member. See that his
needs areattended to. or]: the Press-Ga con-
stantly, for we shall need a full hand should ostii-
‘ities begin. Ship as soon as possible. and await a
reply from . Tin Passwm."

I

 

Buckhorn Bill.

 

“There you have it all in a. nutshell. my Lu... «1"
cried Captain Ned. jubilantly. “i told you there
was knowledge in that paper."

“But it is comparativelv valueless to you," ob-
served Everette, " as you 0 not know the location
of the distillers’ stronghold."

“ l'll know where that is soon. too," vowed Stock~
ton. “ for I shall leave you to care for things here on
the rairies. while I scout around after this Captain
00 n. Once I shadow him l'll freeze to his scent
until the distillery is uneart ed."

“ A good idea; but come! it‘s time to turn in. for
we know not. in this strange country what the mor-
row may bring forth."

It was Dick Reade who said this. and as his ad-
vice was accegted next to that of Captain Ned. a
general stretc ing out was the result. The night

assed without event at the camp. and in the morn-
ug the sun rose as hot as ever it shone down upon a
western plain.

The rangers were early astir. and after feeding
Judge Fowler all his great capacity could contain,
he was started off for old Fort Alexander. from
whence he promised to return inside of five days
with the dispatches.

Whether he would or not, of course could only be
conjectured.

 

Three ears before Captain Ned Stockton had
been a r ng young lawyer in a thriving border
city.
He had also connection with the United States Se-
cret Service of Washington, as a member for the
purpose of watching the border towns w ch were
mfigififacturing and dealing extensively in untaer
w y.

As it turned out, the Government could have a}:-
pointed no better man to fill the po him than Stoc '-
tou for not only was he alive to his duty. but ever
an anon he made raids u on illicit ranches, and
successfully captured both t e whisky and the man-
ufacturers thereof.

These raids Were satisfactory to the Government.
in the reatest degree, and so faithfully did the
young etective pursue his work. that great con-

dence was put in him—pcrha more than was ex-
tended to any other member a ong the frontier.

Needing help in his raids. upon which he could do-

nd ata moment's notice. he had received orders

0 pick out the least number of safe trusty men he
could get along with; whereupon the he 1 Ride Team
was organized. and the service they had done along
with their gallant commander. had led them to be
put under regular salary as ” minions of the Govern-
men .

It was a telegram from head-quarters that had sent
the rifle team u into Northern Dakota, to learn the
truth in regs. to a gantic whisky distillery, a
rumor of which had n waited to Washington.
Re to work at notice. the gallant band had come.
and he reader has alread seen what they had
learned concerning the grea fraud.

A ear previous to our introduction to them. Ned
Stoc ton was sitting in his oillce, at 8— City en-
gaged in looking over some charts and maps which
a before him on his desk.

e day was a warm one in July. and his door
stood ajar to admit the refreshing breeze that swept
in from the prairie.

So attentively was he engaged in his work. that he
did not for some time notice a stranger who had en-
tered and taken a seat.

When he did, he bowed politely. and demanded to
know if he could do anything in his line for the stran-
ger. whom he recognized as an officer he had once
seen at Fort Alexander while on a visit there.

The man was just fifty. probably. judging from
his silvered locks. although he was yet fresh and
handsome of countenance. His e_ es were black and
brilliant. and he wore a long has of a like hue.

"My name is David Sterling." he said, in answer

Buckhorn Bill.

15

 

to young Stockton’s inquiry “ and I am an ex-major,
retired from active service in the army. I am, and
have been in trouble. for many years, and hearing
of you and your proficiency asa detective, I have
come to see i you can do an ng for me.‘

“Exactl i" Stockton rep ed. laying aside his
charts. an taking his note—book and pencil. “Some~
thin in the moonshine line, eh .9"

“ hi no; not that. My trouble is of a different
nature. You. in your tri 3 through the country
might be able to find what want. i' you will listen
I will tell you my trouble."

Accordingly La tain Ned did listen. and in short-
hand, whic be t orouguly understood, he chroni-
cled the story which the major related to him. It
was one of much importance, and one in which he
became instantly interested—a story of a foul wrong
which had been done the officer, years before, ere
time had silvered his looks.

When he had finished, he wiped away tears which
had gathered in his eyes during the relation of the
sto . and said:

“ ow. young man, do you not think you may be
able to assist me? Your knowledge of the West and
western men, among whom you mingle. is becoming
greater every day, and you travel over a I e scope
of territory. Maybe you might run across be two
Sigjectsygf my life, unexpectedly; will you then as-

t me

“Most assuredly," Stockton re lied. “If I strike
a. trail likel to prove successtu so faras you are
concerned, will follow it up.“

“ God bless you for the words," the majorhad said,
and after presslnlg‘rpon Stockton a purse of money,
he took his depa re.

That was the last the young detective saw of him
until today. when shortly after the departure 0
old Ju e Fowler for Fort Alexanderl this eltsame
Maior S erllng rode into the camp.

S ockton recognized him at a glance and shook
hands with him, cordially. when he had dismounted.

“I am glad to see you, major," he said, warm] ,
“ and welcome you to the quarters of the Red Bi 6
Team; but I am much surprised to see you in per-
son. looking even younger than when at first I met
you.

T'1,De mug)" smiledth is i i ld "
“ er my you com as on n my 0 age,
he said. p31 once knew a man whose hair was
said to be white at the age of twenty-three. On
his ninety-first birthday his hair was black and
abundant. What have you made out concerning

my case. young man?“

‘ I am sorry to sav, nothing " Captain Ned replied,
as he conductei the venerable ofilcer into camp.
“It has not yet been my fortune to come across
anything appertaining to your case. for all I have
kept my eyes open."

“ Yet I eel the time is not far distant l" the ms or
said. bowin his head upon his breast. with an n-
ward a ng of s irlt. “I have stran e dreams of
late w ch have l me tobelieve tha mv hour of
happiness is not far 011'. I have never wholly ven
WI will not, for. while there is life there is ope.

erefore I have come out here, and seeing your
08!: , down here, awhile ago, I put into port, to
res .

“ I am glad. for we are about to attempt another
whisky case, and something may turn it which
willbe interesting to you. One cannot what's
day ma bring forth, you know."

‘ Truly sp‘o en, young man, and with your con-
sent, I will eep along with you and your band, for!
have still a strong arm (yet and mizht be of some
little service to you. In eed. my spirit is yet that of
a ha of twenty. and were another war to break
out doubt not but i should take a hand old as! am.
An . if you should find it in your power to restore to
me what I have lost, you shall not lack reward.

' for lure got more money, probably, than you ever

W.
And so the major was made welcome to the ran-

 

gers‘ camp, and entertained as a guest, while every
respect was shown him because of his old age.
What was his mission none but Stockton knew.

 

CHAPTER VIII.

A HUI-BID 0’ IKEIIEB—A MYSTERY 0" was un—
TEE CAPTURE!) [USAGE

Tun situation of the Bo Scourge was not only one
of unpleasantness. but 0 deadly pe . For, in that
flash of lightnin he saw not on y that be was cut oif
from retreat to he shore but beheld also the wild
exultant expression on t e horde of fierce faces
and heard the ells of the enemy echo and resound
through the is e forests.

He only too well know that only tiuick action
could save him from death. and that t must be:
fight till the last breath was gone.

“The devils worked their trick very smart!" he
muttered, as he stood for a moment undecided how
to act. “ I don‘t reckon the gal had anythin to do
with it, though. fer she war too good ter Ian er my
death! Wish Tom had come with me. reckon we
two could ust about made it interestin'fer these
reptiles. ope et won‘t lightning any more, neither,
{Jor ‘3’)?! Red perforate me like a piece 0‘ card-

oa .

The boats containing the Press-Gang rufilans were
cree ing steadily nearer and nearer. the mufiled
pad ice making no noise that would betray their ex-
act whereabouts.

Nor could Bill see them.so dense was the black-
ness of the night. The rain was again pouring down
in torrents, and the thunder eras ing with renewed

orco.

Had he not been cut oil' from land, the Boy Scourge.
would not have been uzzled how to act; but, as
was, he was undecide . He had two chances of t.-
ting out—one by diving in under water. and m-
ming out into the lake. and the other of d htinghis
was' to shore. where, in all robabilities. e would
fin a line of desperate enem es ready to seize him.

On the other hand. if he got beyond the enemies
out into the lake. he would have to make a lo and
tiresome swim to reach land in an direction. rtle
Tom had said that there was an sland in the lake a
mile from shore, but to try to find it in this styglan
darkness would be equally as Ere sterous as for a
mariner to attempt to naviga e t e seas without a
comlpass. ,

“ ll fight. first, and see what can be done in the
way of escaping. afterwardi" he muttered, drawing
his pair of seven-shooters. and cocking them, care.
fully. “ The first nigger on deck sits a blizzard. ‘ '

It was evident that the outlaws wished to capture
the young Scourge first. and ut him to death after
ward. else they would have red 11 :1 him

Fortunater Bill‘s wish was grai ed, for no more
lighting came. immediately. to reveal his position to
the enemy. But he knew, all the same that they
were not far awn although he could nel er seenor
hear them. Wit caution he retreated far enough
toward the shore so that the water did not interfere
with his arms; then pointing both of his revolvers
into the dense blackness. he fired at random. He
waited long enough to hear two answerln yells of
agony; then dropped in under wat r. just a time to
escape a volley of bullets which came from the ene-

m .

is he went down he thrust his revolvers securely
into his pocket, so that he should not lose them. and
then swam in under water for a considerable dis-
tance. At last, however he was forced to come to
the surface. and found that he had come up out of
standing depth.

He also made a startlin discovery! .
Tlro boat: filled with (ml awn, mere passing alowa
by on either side of him—no slowly that an oar-lip

growl agaian out side Q/‘Ma head I '
1n alarm he held his breath, and again sunk silent
lv beneath the waves. But he could not remalg

down for any length of time. i

 

 

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16

 

The boats were past now, and he was alone in the
waters of a lake of which he knew nothing.

“Thank God I'm out of that scra )e," be muttered,
whopping over on his back and a lowing the water
to float im alon until he was rested, “ Whewi I
wish old Jupiter uvius wouldn’t shod such mighty
big tears down into my face, though. Wonder if I
unmaterialized the spirits of them two chaps w‘at
yelled. I ho so, and am sorry I could not manage
to pav ‘em a1 my respects in better shape. Hope
Tom Frailev ain’t got into them cusses‘ hands, but
it‘s more'n likely he has. Durn ‘em, I can’t help let-
tln’ ’em know I'm alive and kickin’, yet of it is dan-
gerousl“

And. detaching from his belt the buckhorn we have
before mentioned, he placed the small end to his
lips, and blew a pure. mellow blast. which echoed
and re—echoed over lake and prairie for many

Buckhom Bill.

 

gpmleHalong with a boat, for l’m gctiin’ all-fired
ire .

Knowing his endurance would not last much longer
Without rest, he turned over on his back. and floated
about at the will of the waves for some time, keep—
ing watch on the movements of the outlaws, whom
he knew to be where he saw the light.

But at last he was startled by hearing the dip of a
paddle, and turning quickly over on his face he pro-
gelled and kept himself upon the surface with one

and, while, with the other. he drew a revolver.

A boat wav comma directly toward Mm. Did it con-
tain friends or enemies?

Then he heard a little laugh, and— ‘

" Well, sir! are you here? ’

It was the girl‘s voice that spoke:

“ Great Jupiter! who are you I" Bill demanded,
wonderin 1y.

minutes afterward, with wonderful tenacity of “Molly iner, at yourservicel“ and the boat float-
sound. . ed nearer. “ Climb in, and i will row you to shore.
“Therel that’s what tells where Buckhom Bill v

is, an' that he’s all right side up with care. Jemi-
mal hear the cusses sw‘ur an' yowlt over the dis-
cove that I’m a human eel w‘at's wiggled through
their ngers. Guess it will be advisable for me ter
exertflmy mermaid proclivities now, in order to es‘
cane.

Restoring the horn, which was one of his own in-
vention, to his belt. he rolled over again, and swam
rafidly on out into the lake. _

t now began to lighten, incessantly, and m such
vivid glares that the lake was lit up every other mo-
ment, as light as day.

“Great mother 0’ Mosesl I never see sech light—
nin’ before,“ Bill muttered. as he swam on through
the bufleting waves. “ Yes. an’ by Christmas, them
im 3 are puttln‘ after mel Good enough—serves me

I wonder ou escaped the Press-Gang.

“ Ohl t at’s eas enough. when you once know
how," Buckhom ill replied, with a laugh. as he
clambered into the skiff. “ But I didn‘t expect to be
granted the pleasure of meeting on so soon, again.
tghettvci‘o you know about them ancy roosters over

ere.

“ 1 may know a great deal. or a very little, but I
cannot tell you anything.”

“Bet a copper you belong to 'em, and know whar
their roost isl ’

"I won't bet. Here; lend me a hand, and we‘ll
£31] for the shore. The sooner you are on land the

titer it will be.”

“ Yas—for them chaps, yonder. But hold on.
Just let me toot my horn ter let ’em know I'm all
right. No doubt they‘re very anxious concerning my

rig ti I orter kept my trap shet, and I'd been all welfarei“

right. But, thets a virtual impossibility“ sum- “Nol you mustn't,"said Molly, quickly, putting
times. I‘ve got to talk 03 \v’at I’m inflated With, or up her ban 1.

my“... " Why not? Not one toot!"

The Press-Gang had indeed turned their boats
about, and the oarsmen were pulling With a will,
while a number'of them wore occupying standing
positions. with rifles in their hands, apparently pre-
paratory for use.

“I reckon the galoots mean shute now ” the
Young Scourge muttered, as he occasionally glanced
back. “ They‘ve their optics froze onter me, too. or

“ Because it would show lyour enemies just where
to look for you; moreover t would be certain death
to me if it were known that I had anything to do
With getting you ashore. Come! will you help me
now. or will you let me do it all alone?"

“Not much, you sha'n’tl Excuse me, for I war
thinkin‘ o’ tootin‘ my horn. an’ not of escaping."

Instead of one, he seized both of the oars, and

else they wouldn‘t come so straight, Dang the pulled swiftly through the waters. Note word more
ii htning— Criminyl” was spoken until the boat grounded u n the sandy
e started visibly, and grew pale as there came shore; then Bill sprung out. and so! while he ex-

a frightful crash of thunder, that seemed to jar
even the watersof the lake. Then the flashes of
light once more ceased to come.

‘Jove there‘s sumthin’ wonderful about this.
ban ed if there ain‘tl” Bill muttered. axing toward
the ky heavens in awed surprise. “ her old ant
up there seems to know and do what I want. eb-
be he‘s got kind of a liking after me, after all- and I
know I think of His greatness too little. 'But at
sha‘n’t be so after this. I‘m all hunky now, of I hold
out in strengt ."

Turning out of the course he had been pursuing.
he swam toward the right or northern end of the
lake—swam as rapidly as he could. for he knew his
safety depended upon getting out of the track of the

tended his hand. frankly:

“ I thank you ver much, Miss Miner. and some
ganglion? to rows you for your services to me,

-n .

He then, after clasping her hand a moment in his,
was about to stride away but she called him back.

“ Stop 1" she cried. with her childish imperiousness.
“I want you yet, before you 0. You must romise
me something, and faith ully eepthe pro ."

“ The deuce you say! what is it l—d'ye want me ter
marry ye. or ye goin' tor get me into some tn! 7"

“ Neither. I want you to promise to forever save
thl lake-shore, and never come near it again."

“ What. Clear out. and never cum back again?
Not much. I won’t-not even for on. An‘ I reckon

boats in time. Ten minutes of hard stroking; then thar ain‘t many things I wouldn’ do for you."

he paused and listened. He heard loud, angry voices “Very well. I‘ll not ask you again. Stay, and
west of him, and concluded that the outlaws were take the co uenoes that must ilow."

still pulling on in the vain hope of finding him —for Without not or word she p back onto the

it was a vain hope.
“ Guess the salamanders airs gettin‘ considerably
alley,“ hthe Buckhom observed, with a smile of
map
“Hellol they‘ve lit a lantern off yonder. Wish I
had mv rifle. an' sumthin’ besides water to stand on,
and l'd make some punctuations in their life parch-
ment. Wonder where. I am. anyhow, or how fur it
into that island Tom Frailey spoke about? 'Twlxt
that an‘ mainland, the distance must be about equal.
I wish sum well-disposed botch of humanity would

 

lake and was gen .

“Beckon she s somehow connected with them sr‘
Press-Gang pukesl‘I Buckhom Bill muttered, stating
after her, “an‘ she ain't urtickler desirous thet
shed agitate their peace 0 mind. But the (lunged
skunks hev already had several pieces uv my mind.
w'at stuck by ’em. t me see; I'm on the main
shore now, and there don’t appear ter be any one
about. Reokon I’d better squat sumwhere around
here, and wait for darkness to clear away store I
ramble about too permiscussly. Don't seem to be

;

Buekhom Bill.

1"

 

any one in this yore vicinity at present. onless
the ‘re scroochin around among these niauzinta
bus es. Reckon I’d better reconnoiter."

Making as little noise as possible. he skirmished
around through the adjacent woods, but without
the result of finding any of the ear-my.

“Guess the pesky pokes hev all took ter water.
Now, then, I'm goin’ ter take a nan. hit or miss or
Iwon‘t be fit for a fig. ter-morrow. This makes
three days an’ nights that I hevu’t hod any sleep."

Searching about. he soon succeeded in finding a
desirable couch. But he was not destined to occupy
it in slumber, for, just as he had got himself nicely
)rostrated, his attention was called to a large, bri -

antlight upon the waiers. It seemed to pour out
of some object out in the center of the lake, and
shot over the waters in a wide yellow bolt toward
the eastern shore.

*‘ Hellol what‘s that?" the Young Scourge mutter-
ed, raising himself upon his elbow, and gazing to
ward the ight in astonishment. “ What confounded
zrystery is there about this lake, anyhow? Thct
looks es of it was from a locomotive head-light, but
I don’t reckon they've got any locomotives hayr.
Too dark fera feller ter make out whar et comes
from, too. Guess I won‘t try, very serious, as long
as et don‘t bite me."

Without leaving his couch of leaves, which was
under». thorn tree’s shelter, nearly at the water‘s
edge he watched the mysterious streaming light.
It id not seem to be moving, but rather remained
fixed and stationary.

“Bet m gizzard I’ll try ter anylize thet bizness,
another n ght when I ain‘t so tired,“ Bill muttered,
“fer thar‘s kind of a prickly sensation in my peri-
cranium w‘at tells me this whisky distillery ain't
far off. Hello! who comes there?"

A skiff had touched shore buta few yards off, and
abuman form leaped ashore and skulked toward
the woods. It needed but a glance to assure Buck-
horn that it was a savage, and without a moment of
hesitation, for he hated an Indian worse than he did
a snake, he drew from his bosom the india-rubber
pouch in which his revolver had repOSed in safety—
took it out and, with a quick aim, fired, the flash
lighting the night, and the report ringing far over
thelake.

_ With a piercing death-shriek the red-skin dropped
upon the sands, and bled out his life. Creeping out
from his concealment, Buckhorn Bill approached
the spot where the stricken savage lay in death‘s
t roe.

“Eh? I tickled him to death wi' plumbago. did I?“
the Young Scourge muttered, with a chuckle.
"PityIcouldn‘t her killed a dozen wi' that same

ill. Hello! it’s that old scurvy, Long Death, sure’s

‘m a Christian. Didn’t know be war in league wi'
this Whisky Rln . An’ he’s got a pacer, thar,
clutched in the p m of his greasy hand. It's a. mes-
aagtaifiom’the gang for some one. and I'll jest about
co n.

Raising the red-skin‘s hand and parting the fin-
gers, he soon had possession of the message. It
proved. on examination by his punk light. to be
written in the same cipher that had so puzzled Ned
Stockton and the Red Rifle Team, and covered half
a page of common note paper.

‘ Humph i" Buckborn muttered in d'sgust; “some
of that secret cipher again. Oh, well, I can keep it
for Sunday read n i”

The dip of pad Ian was now distinctly audible,
and it needed no argument to convince the Scourge
that the Press-Gang was yet after him, having been
a ain aroused by t e pistol-report.

he light upon the lake had died out!

“ Guess I’ll take to a tree. and see of I can’t catch
a bit of a snooze while they're searching for me."

CHAPTER IX.
aucxnonu arm‘s VENTURE—AGAIN on m wuss—
nz :sraarsrmo BEGA’I‘TA.
GLANOING sharply around him, Buckhorn Bill es-

 

 

pIc-d an immense cottonwood tree, which grew at
the edge of the lake, and he selected it as the one he
should climb. It was lar e of circumference, with
limbs growing down with n six feet of the ground,
and was fully fifty feet high, if not more.

The Young Scourge sgrung up among the lower
branches, from whence e worked his way cautious-
ly upward from limb to limb, until he ha aim-d a
position about fifteen feet from the groun . Here
he paused to rest and listen.

" Pretty good place for to take a comfortable
snooze,“ he muttered. looking carefully around to
see that no one else than himself was in the tree.
" lflf them dauged salamanders will only let a feller
alone—ha! they‘re going to make a landin at the
foot of this very treel Hope to goodness t ey’ll go
slang about their bizness and not stick their snoots
up inter this lace." .

The Press- ang, or part of it, consisting of some
twenty men, soon beached their boats. an gathered
on the shore beneath the cottonwood. Eagerly
lluekhorn listened to their conversation.

" Yns here‘s Loni: Death, sure enough." growled
one. kicking the stiflening body \iith his foot. “I
know'd it war his death-screech the minnet I heard
it. Et air ther work of thet durnrd Buckhorn
Pi)", too. He nevyer wastes but one pill on a

e ler.‘

“ He can‘t be fur away, then, Capt'in Gregg,“ de-
clared another.

“Neither he ain’t." was the grufl reply. “Wish
Coffin “ar heer wi’ his ang, an we‘d soon rout him
out. Scatter, on skun s, and turn over every leaf
from beer to quatterville, but what you find him.
Reckon et‘s time coffin war back from there, of he
hain’t bed no delays."

“ What in thundein he go fer, anyhow, an‘ take
the best part 0’ ther ang?“

“ Dunno no more at out et than you do. Calculate
he hed sum private bizness on hand. Cuss the
luck! thet young thief w‘ut killsd Long Death has
tuk ther message I sent ter Whisl: y Bill. But thet
won’t hurt, tho’, fer et'll take a smarter man than
roams these prairies, outside 0‘ our rang, ter make
out (her secret o’ ther Secret Cipheri"

No more of importance was said for the next frw
moments, for the outlaws scatte red and began a close
search for the daring Bov Scourge.

“ it seems that this ain‘t Cap Coffln's gang, after
all?" muttered Bill, as he swung his legs from the ‘
limb on which he was perched, in the tree. ” But
et's a parcel of the original band. under a chap thev
call Grvgg. Wonder what Coffin is going to Squat-
t<~rville for? Reekon he war hound there when he
cornered me on the prairie, this afternoon. I’d like
to be in his shoes, an‘ see an‘ hear what he‘s up to.
Some devilishness, I’ll warrant— perhaps to make
some home fatherless or brotherless. with his Press-
Gang bizness. Reckon ther day ain't fur off when
I‘ll get my eye cocked onter him. and then thar'll be
one less puke on ther face 0‘ ther earth."

The radius were thrashing about through the
Woods below, at a terrible rate, and their profanlt
was such as Buckhorn had never heard equale .
Amonf the loudest and angriest of them all was
Capta n Gregg, and the oaths be used and the threats
he made against the olgect of their search were
highly-flavored, and mu mg to Buckhorn Bill, who
was coollv enjoying the situation. as he sat u on
his ogerch in among the branches of the giant cot on-
wo .

“ Guess et won’t be healthy fer me to fall into
their claws now." be muttered. “Wonderhow much
longer they’re goin' to keep up that racket. an' keep
a tailor frum takin’ a. comfortable snooze. Hope
they don’t think I kin sleep in Bedlam."

The rain had by this time passed over, the thunder
and lightning had subsided. and the ominous banks
of clouds were clearing away to reveal aster-decked
sky. It also became lighter, and Bill came tothe
conclusion that morning was not far awa .

At last, growing discouraged, the w y-rougha

 

. - ckf4——~W~ 0......)

7.. ..; ._.. A4.

.- ‘.-r‘.’"

4...; <

 

 

H
u“

12 i

18 Buckhorn Bill.

 

all gathered on the lake-shore. beneath the cotton-
wood Gregg being the last one to come.

“ ' ain't no use to prolongrthe search, I ess.” he
said. with a broad oath. “ he young dev i has hid.
an' we might look a lifetime wi‘out findin’ him. Pile
in1 man ther oars. an‘ let’s git, afore et comes light. “

‘ Goin' tor leave a watch?“

“Noi fer ef a man war to stay hayr, he‘d only
turn inter a macademized stiff ther minuit thet
Bucknorn spied him. We‘ve lost two men by him.
team ht. an’ we won‘t risk any more, you bet. Pile
in. all ds.” -

The three boats were filled. and pushed out into
the lake. and the boat Lo Death had come in, was
also a printed. ’l‘hen t e outlaws rowed silently
awa rough the waters and the fading night.

“ ow, ef et warn’t fer fetchin‘ ‘em back. I‘d iest
luv tor give a blast on my buckhorn." the Boy
Scourge muttered. with a grin. in anticipation of
the pleasure it would give him. “ But, I guess I’ll
let ’em go this time."

Conclu ax to remain where he was until daylight,
he improved the intervenin time by taking a ma),
rude and primitive as were s accommodations. e
awoke wi h the morning sunshine streaming into his
face through the branches; birds were singing joy-
ously all around him; and evergthing was fresh and
fragrant from the previous nig ‘s storm.

Ever careful and wary, Buckhorn Bill are t
through the diflerent parts of the tree, and took 0

serva onsto make sure that no enemies were lurk-
ing near. are he descended to the ground. From the
cottonwood he commanded a fine View of the lake,
which lay calm and placid in the early morning sun-

li ht.
8He was at the northern end of it' the opposite
termination he was unable to see with the naked

eye.

But he could see each side. for a long way down,
and also the island which Turtle Tom had s ken
of. It consisted of four or five acres. or may 6 six,
of high lan i which rolled u and back from the
water s edge, and was comp etel covered with a
dense thicket of balsam trees, al of which had at-
tained an unusual hight.

Upon the surface of the lake and upon the is'and.

there were no signs of human hei all was uiet
and peaceful as on a Sabbath mo ng, and na ure
seemed in one of her loveliest moods.
“ I guess all's firm," the Young Scourge said,
when me had completed his observations. " Don’t
judge there’s any of the devils around, or I should
see some signs of life. i wish I had my trusty rifle,
and I'dbe all right."

He deseen led. and spent some moments ivin on
the ground and stretching out his limbs, which 
been cramped during his stay in the tree.

Ks next stole cautiously along the lake-shore to-
ward the point on the side of the lake where he
had left Turtle Tom on the previous n ht. He did
not expfc'; to find him there now, but e hoped to

sin is trust rifle.

n reachin tie point he found the weapon. sure
enough. Itan ing behind a tree, but careful search
failed to discover Turtle Tom. Either he had been
captured by the Press-Gang. or had left the vicinity
of the lake.

After making a breakfast on fish from the lake.
roasted over a smokeless fire. Buckhorn Bill spen'z
the remainder of the da in resting, in a secluded
nook which he discove in the woods; for he had
determined when night came again to know more
concerning the mystery which enshrouded the lake.

“ I b‘lieve that there's a nest of the devils on that
island ” he said. thoughtfully. as he gazed around
into. t e solitude of the woods, au‘ ef there is. I‘m
going ter find ‘em out. of 1. can. Purtv soon the
Govemment will smell a rat, and be oflerin’ a re-
ward fer these pilgarlics. and who‘s a better right
ter it than sum feller about in figure? To be sure,
I needn’t be hard up, fer m Ranch and Burn-
ham colony orter be fetchin‘ in a good round sum of

 

money every year; but let that slide—et‘li stand
offset ag'in'm old e. Reckou I orter keep alive
on my wits an what kin kill in the sha of game."

mind made up, he was not long n forming a
plan of operations.

The best point of access to the island was near
where he was lounging. the distance being on]
about a mile. At other points the distance varied):
from one and a half miles to two or even three.

The day (fussed slowly. but he was much in need
of rest, an when the shadows of hi ht cre I over
the land and water, he was rcfreshe great y, and

prfipared for work.

a waited until the darkness was as deep as it
would be—for a moon would rise late in the evrning
—and then set to work on his projected plan of visi-
ting the island.

He had no boat, and to swim a mile was not a part
of his wish or intention. He was not long. however.
in finding a mode of transportation. A few rods up
the lakeshore he found a log which had been cut
by some woodman’s or surveyor‘s ax. and by using
Eries he soon had it afloat. Next, with his sheath-

nife, he improvised a rude paddle: then, straddling
the 10 . he set out upon his voyage.

The ht log moved easily. and he was enabled to
make satisfactorg headway. But his position was
undesirable, fort e reason that he was exposed to
the bullets of the enem . should he he fired upon.

But it was yet some istance ere bullets would or
could reach him from t e island.

Overhead the stars were thick in the blue vault of
heaven, which made a dim, uncertain light below,
on the earth and water.

“ I reckon I‘ll patent this boat." Bill chuckled.
“ Ef she don‘t git a rollin’-tit, I reckon I‘m all hunki-
dori. Hello! "

He chanced to 1ance back toward the main land,
when. what was is great surprise to see a boat put-
tinfiloif from shore. evidently in Eursuit of him.

T ere was but one rson visi ie at the oars. but
this did not signify t at there mi ht not be more
crouching in the bottom of the era .

“ Humphi I reckon we‘re goin‘ ter have kinder of
a mregistter hayr," the Scourge muttered. as he pulled
s ily alo at the same time keeping a close
watch in n t e craft inthe rear. “Yas, thar she
comes, 1 ckety scoot.

“Am 1 oin’ ter let that galoot overhaul me. an’
me got th 9 start? Ohi no; not ef ther court‘s stripin-
ion aren‘t complicated. That chap sither‘s a wh ky
spy, which hes bin layin' fer me. or else he ain't, an'
is sum other pilgarllc w'at‘s in fer wipin' out some
old score. Good mind to phrenologize his skulp wi‘
alead feeler, but thet would like’s not fetch out a
gang 0‘ them distillers. which ain‘t ter my likln‘.
No: I reckon I‘ll tuck on the elbow-grease. an' let
the chap have sum exercise."

“ Laym to." as the sailors say. Buckhorn Bill
pulled wit all his strength, and his rude boat moved

hrouzh the water at a lively rate. Every stroke
with the rough bark sent the craft nearer and near-
er to the island.

But the, pursuer had the advantage of a small
skiff with a sharp prow, and a goal pair of oars;
nor did the rower continually have to alance him-
self to keep from bein dumped over into the lake.
He came on at a am to rapidly gain on Buckhorn
Bill. and the Young Scourge was not slow to per-
ceive such was the case.

“ You‘d better cum ruther cautious. my festive
finder.“ Bill muttered, with a compression of his

ps, “fer I ain't ther most angelic-dispersitioned
reoster ye ever didn‘t hear tell of."

But the pursuer came on.

Bill was able to discover that he was a rough-look-
ing customer, and he had no doubt of his identity as
one of the Press-Gang. So the Young Scourge
brought his boat to a halt; then changed his posi-
tion so that he faced the ursuer.

“ Now. see hayrgou b g-headed sucker—you dog-
gin‘ puke i“ be 0 ed. angrily, “jest hold up ye;-

Buckhorn Bill.

19

 

bosses, or I'll put a red per inter your Phrenologi-
kal Journal quicker‘n IleGate war ruptured. What
d'ye want?"

“I'll soon show ye i" growled the fellow, pulling
on toward the Scourge. “Ruther reckon yer little
race is run. my lad. Put down your shootin‘—irons."

“ Naryl" Bill roplied, grimly, and the next mo-
ment he fired at the ap roaching ruman.

But before he had true to note the effect of the
shot, a lasso drop ed sudden] over him, was drawn
tautt, and he was erked head- oremost over into the
we or.

He had foes behind, it seemed, as well as in front.

 

CHAPTER X.

A VILLAINOUS AGREEMENT-ROYAL RALPH WINS BUT
1.0538.

We must now return to the little settlement of
S uatterville and to the cottage home of the trader,
a sky Bill humane.

At the close of our third chapter. it willbe remem-
bered, we left Mrs. Prescott and Pearl in a. state of
anxiety and alarm, as they saw Burdelle a proach—
ing the cottage, accompanied by the row y loafer,
Roan Ra] h.

“Yes, c ild. run upstairs, quick," Mrs. Prescott
said “and hide in the chimney-closet, for] would
not ave that Rove] Ralph see on again. The vel
Old Nick, himself, is in the fe low, I do believe. 1
Burd'elie asks for you, I'll tell him you‘ve stepped
out.

“ But, dear. supposing Burdelle should catch you
trying to deceive him? He would murder ou."

“ Do not fear for me. child." the house eeper re-

lied, in her quiet way. “Bill Burdello knows he
gate not offer me violence, even though he curses at
me, and threatens. I hold a secret of his, the be-
tra alof which would hang him to a limb in short
ord’er. Go, now, for they’re coming in and will see

ou '

Snatching a hurried kiss, Pearl ran lip-stairs; but

paused at the top, a startled expression upon her
eatures.

" fval Ral h means me harm,“ she whispered to
hersel , her eautii'ul egos dilating with horror,
“and he is getting Bill urdelle to help him. Ohl
Ghod help me, if I have to fight villains as terrible as
t 0y.
. Burdelle and his companion entered the little sit-
ting-room of the cottage, where Mrs. Prescott was
gifting, grid the whisky-trader motioned Royal Ralph

a sea .

“ Set down, Stanmere, and we will git to business,
directly. Margaret, where is the 9.1?”

“ Do you mean Pearl i" asked rs. Prescott. trem-
blin with fear of what the consequences might be.

“ f course I mean Pearl!" he replied, grufti .
“Who else d'fi'e suppose I meant? One’d think
heer ye talk, t at I ed a house full of gels."

“ Pearl has step ed out. somewhere," the reply
came. “ Perhaps s e will be in soon."

“Yas, cuss e. that’s what ye allus as .but her
soon is a coup e of hours. every time. she ain‘t
coming soon, I‘ll break our headl“

“There is no presen hurry about the girl. Bur-
delle " said Royal Ralph. in his smooth, oil?i tones.
“Me be you won‘t need to call her: besic es, I‘ve
seen her once or twice, and know she's got up in

good shape.

“ All right, then' just as you say. Draw yer chair
up beer to the tab (9, and we’ll compare notes."

Royal Ralph (lid as requested, and with a bottle of
ii ulor before them, the two men sat down at the

o e.

Burdelle was a man of some flve-and~forty years,
with a brawny: iron-wrou ht form and a dark. dis-

reeable cou tenance, w lab a career of evil and
d ssluatlon had made gositivel repulsive. His eyes
were wild. haggard an bloods 0t and an expression
of cruelty and sensuallsm lurked in the comers of
his large mouth. His hair and goatee were black

 

and curling; his dress was buckskin, which was old
and greas . As if to prove that he was a thorough»
going bo emanhe carried cons icuously displayed
a his belt a long unsheathed kni e, and a heavy pair
of “32" revolvers.

Royal Ralph was apparently not over thirty years
of age, with a villainous-looking face the rominent
features of which were alon nose, ead-ike black
eyes a pointed black mustac e, and alow beetlan
forehead with shngjgy brows; and a form 0 medium
hight. well fattene by the excessive use of whisky,
and the negligence of labor of any sort.

He was attired in buckskin, with more rrtcnsions
to taste than was observed by Whisky Bi , and wore
simply a revolver in his belt.

As soon as the two were stated at the table,
Whisky Bill turned to Mrs. Prescott:

“ You can go out, Margaret," he said, rumy.
“ We don‘t keer for yer company at resent. '

“ I care not what you care for. Bill urdelle," was
the housekeeper‘s firm reply. “1 was in this room
before you came. and I sha i not leave it."

“ What! do you dare—"

“ Yes, I dare to defy you, Bill, and you know it
well enough. if I were to—"

“There! there) enough of that, you old she-cat!"
he growled. savage] .

“ Stanmere. we Will proceed to business. You say
I owe you five thousand dollars, which i lost at gam-
bling. while I was drunk?"

“ Exactly.” the rowdy replied, lighting a cigar.
“ You played big and lost, an‘ ave me a paper
mortgage on yer house an’ pra lie land fer he
amount."

“Where is this mortgage?”

“ Ohl l‘vo got it safely put away, wherel can soon
get at it."

“ In yer )cket, no doubt."

t”‘Thet on't matter. Are ye reddy ter redeem
i ?‘

“Wal, we‘ll see about thet. You sed ef I'd give
is the gel ter do with as ye pleased, you‘d give me

ack the mort age. eh?" ‘

“ I sed I‘d ve you back the mortgage, Jaroviding
you made me the gal‘s guardian, an’ moi me how
you cum by her—who were her )arenls."

“ I cum by her natteral enoug . when she war my
first wife’s only child, an‘ I her father."

“ Get outl“ Roy‘al Ralph said, contemptuously.
“You‘re no more er father than I am."

“But I am. though."

“Get out. I say. I know better, and that ends the
matter. The girl‘s no offspring of yours. nor are
vou in any way related to her. I think I can trace
her identity through her features by a family resem-
blance. And, therefore, she is valuable to me—more
so than your mortgage."

“ Ah! indeed; but on haven‘t got her yet!" the
whisk -trnder sneer-c , with evil triumph.

“ ell, if you don‘t give her to me on trade I shall
foreclose the mortgage."

“ Foreclose and be deviled l“ Whisky Bill growled.
fiercely. " You get me mad, and l‘ll jest about chaw
yer ear 01!."

“I have no wish or intention to get you mad,"
Royal Ralph re lied, calmly. "I on y w sh to bar-
ter with you. on must needs posstss the mort-
gage. or lose your home. I want the girl for my own
pu osos. Can’t we make adickeri"

\\ iisky Bill drummed reflectiver u on the table.
in the meanwhile keeping an eye be h upon Royal
Ralph and Mrs. Prescott. who, though sremingly
very busy with her needle-work, was pale and trem-

ng.

“ Weal. I’ll tell you what we‘ll do.” he said, after
a few minutes. " We’ll divide that bottle 0' stifl' old
rye atween us, an‘ throw dice—three ltosses. Thor
one that wins is the winner, of course. If I win.
you give me ther mortgage, or I’ll cut yer throat. If
you win on shall hev the girl and he mortgage.
also or all my weasand. reeable?"

“I reckon it's about fair, ’ Royal Ralph replied,

 

2:  .

 

 

 

20 Buckhorn Bill.

__Jl

 

grimly. “ Break the nose off‘m that p‘izen. and let’s
get that part of the transaction done."

“I‘ll stump ye toput down a quart apiece!" the
trader said, uncorklng that bottle and producing an-
other from the sideboard. " Et‘ll ma e our nerves
steadler for the bizness before us."

And he laughed as if the proposal was liberal—
and it was, in one sense.

“ You can if you choose," Royal Ralph replied.
with a cunnin smile. “but a. pint will do for me.
Being of smal er stature. my capacity is naturally
not as in e as ours.“

“ Oh! I: t’s nothing!“ the trader remarked, with
a aw. “ I once know‘d a little feller named La
Muck. who ked put down six gallons of the raw stuff
wi‘nut winkin‘.‘

The bottle was broken and in a short time its con-
tents were gone. Then Whisky Bill produced a che-
box and dice. five in number.

“You can throw first." he said, “an’ ther game's
ter be three bosses.”

Royal Ralph shook the dice and dextrously rolled
them out upon the table. Four aces la revealed.
and gne tray. In the second flop he ma e the tray
an a e.

“Five aces is hard to beat, my covey l“ he said,

with a. grin.

Whis y Bill did not reply. but threw four trays
and an ace; taking up the ace. he made it five tra s.

“First horse for me." the rowdy said, coo y.
" Go ahead." ‘

Again they shook; result: live aces for Whisky
Bill; three aces and two deuces for Stanmere; sec-
ond horse awarded Whisky Bill.

The third horse was won by Stanmere, for he
threw five aces at the first flop. to Whisky Bill‘s
deuces!

"There!" he cried. triumphantly. “didn‘t I win
the gal fair?“

“Yes, perfectly fair," Whisky Bill growled. an-
grll , “and she’s yours to do with as you please.

f er connections I'll tell you nothing."

“All right; {give me the gal an‘ let her history
go to the devi !" the rufflan rowdy cried. eagerly.
“ Where is she? Here’s your old mortgage—take it
an' five me the gal."

“ reckon she‘s up-stairs Ihar." answered Bur-
delle, with a glance toward the stairway; “least-
wise I’ve seen the old woman. heer, cast anxious
glances thet way. Ye can go u an‘ see fer yerself."

With an eprrzssion of devilsh jubilance u on
his evil face. ya! Ralph rose to his feet. ut
Mrs. Prescott also arose. and confronted him.

"Stop. you villain! You shall not go up there.

3 fly! Pearl. for your life!" she screamed; but
the next instant she was felled to the floor bya
heavy blow. and Royal Ralph s rung up the stairway.

Whisky Bill followed at hs leisure. and found
the villain in a terrible rage. as he rushed furiously

_ around.

“ She's gone! she’s gone!“ he roared, swearing
frightfully- “she’s not here. and you know where
she is. Bu elle."

“I reckon I ken tell you." the trader replied.
grimly. pointing through an open window, far out
upon the prairie beyond the settlement, where a
horsewoman was dashing rapidly along. “That‘s
yer bird. of I ain’t out o reckoning. he’s heard

er plot wi’ me. an’ hes took ter hoss. Ef you catch

r. you‘ll hev ter git up before breakfast. fer thar
ain't them around heer as can catch her."

“ But I‘ll catch her, though!" Royal Ralph cried.
and leaping through the window to the ground.
be bounded away. Springing upon a horse which
stood before the village store. he eplunged the spurs
into the animal‘s flanks, and dash away in pursuit.
When he gained the prairie. he saw that Pearl
was fully two miles away. and also that darkness
and an oncoming storm Were broodiig. But his
steed was apparently fresh, and hebad rong hopes
of overtaking the runaway.

And Pearl:

 

She was urging Pet, her Indian pony. to the very

to of his s n her endeavors to escape.

he saw a! Ralph coming in pursuit the mo-
ment he leftt e settlement. and knew that it must
be a desperate race—knew that it was to be a race
for life and liberty with her. But. although she had
the advantage of distance over her pursuer. she
saw that Pet was not good fora great deal more
work. She had ridden him well that afternoon, an l
knew that if his strength lasted against the fresh-
ness of Royal Ralph’s horse it would be a miracle.

On—on, she dashed over the prairie. using both
spurs to urge the faithful pony. glancing buck
occasional y only to perceive that the pursuer was
lessening the intervening distance.

An hour passed. and darkness fell silently over
the prairie. and the last limpse Pearl caught of her
foe was startling and iornfying to her. He was
now scarceliy a mile away.

“0h! Go help me." the Fairy of Squatterville
muttered as she peered back throu h the deepening
gloom. ‘ I am an outcast and fu tive on the face
of the earth, even sold from my home. Where shall
I go—what can I do to evade this monster who now
claims me as his ward?“

There was no answer to her question. but the hard
breathing and thud of Pet‘s hoofs upon the turf.

At last a thought struck her; she would turn in
another direction, and in the dense darkness Royal
Ralph would miss her. She therefore turned Pet‘s
head to the westward, and urged him on, desperately
determined to escape if possible.

On—on; the storm overhead threatened to break
at every moment; then. she galloped fearlessly down
Lfiglalprairie valley, where a camp-fire was blazing

it y.

Scarcelv before she knew it, her pony was seized
by the bit. and hurried forward into the camp.
where a score or more of rough. Villainous-looking
men were lounging, all of whom were attired in
crimson suits, and armed to the teeth.

“ Hello, Armstrong. what hev ye got there?" de-
manded a portly. thick-set man. with long beard and
half-mask to hide his features, as he rose to his feet
—“a girl, by Jupiter!"

“Yes, captain. a reg’lar stunner. I found her
back hayr a-ridin‘ as if she war chased by the Old
Nick hisse .”

“Who are you. young lady?" the portly captain
asked. drawing near.

“ I am Pearl. the adopted daughter of Bill Burdens,
of Squattervill a“ was the faint reply. and poor
Pearl shrunk instinctivei from the gaze of the redly'
gleaming eves thro h t e musk.

“ Eh? Burdelle‘s auahter? Well. that is strange.
What sent you off here?"

Pear! related her story briefly, and looked around
into the grim faces. suppllcatingly.

" Well, here’s qduite a romance. I declare, and I
rea'ly am surprise ." said the captain. “ My name‘s
Coffin, miss. and these are my men. All I can do for
you is to send you with one of my men to my
mother’s ranch. about ten miles from here. There
you would be safe."

“ Oh! I will go. then!“ Pear! cried. unsuspicious of
(la er—“ anywhere to escape the Villain who is
hun ing mcl’

Captain Collin acCOrdimzly ordered one of his
Prairie Pirates to mount. and convey the fugitive to
his mother‘s ranch. I

The man chosen. bowed, and left the camp. but
soon returned upon a flue-looking horse, already

nipped for the journey.

ut just at this juncture. hoobstrokes were heard.
and Row Ral )h .galloped boldly down into the
camp. hat (1 d it mean?

CHAPTER XI.
cmnm con-m no nuns sram. no w—asvraw-
mo run mar.
Noun seemed more agitat:d at the a pearance of
Royal Ralph, than the portly chief o the Whisky

/

Buckhom Bill.

21

 

Ring, Ca tain Coffin. He started perceptiny at the
advent o the villain, and a low, muttered execration
escaped bis lifis.

Royal Ralp rode boldl forward, and raised his
hat, with a smile, to poor earl, who was trembling
and very pale.

“Good-evening, fair lady.“ he said. a pecuh’ar
glitter in his evil eyes. ‘ I lope you are not any the
worse for the lnterestin little race we had. Really,
I am quite ashamed of t ie poor racin qualifications
of my animal. and until I saw this re-light down
here, I quite despaired of finding you. You’re
mounted still, I perceive—perhaps you and your
com anion were coming in search of me; eh?"

“ hi no;" and Pearl cast the villain a withering

lance, “ we were not (going to hunt for wolves.
§ou needn’t have chase me. Ralph Stanmere, for
I will not go with you."

“ Ah! my beauty, but yoummzt ; I shall insist uBon
it, for you know I won ou fairly from Whisky ill
and you are mine. I you are fatigued, we wil
camp somewhere in this neighborhood until morn-

in .'
F‘Noi I will not camp with on, an where. You
have" no claim upon me, an
“But I swear you shall!" he cried, flerCely. gnaw-
ing at his mustache. “I‘ll have you if I have to
fight Satan and all his im s.“

e plunged the spurs ate the bleeding flanks of
his animal, and rode nearer to Pearl, but the pirate
$110 was to be her conductor, quickly intercepted

m.

“ Hold, Harvey Benton i“ cried a stem, deep voice,
and Royal Ralph started in alarm—“ hold. where you
are, for you come to the wrong Ignace to enforce
your villainous designs. Whisky ill’s daughter is
under my protection, and you cannot have her. Do
you comprehend ?"

It was Ca tain Coffin who s he. and he stood at
Royal Ralp ’5 side. with revo ver in his grasp.

‘ Who are on Y" the rowd demanded, boldly.

“ I won this $51 fairly and she lhave her.“
“No, I thin not. wellyn, you ride ahead with
the young‘ lady, and take her to the lace I directed.
Be carefu . and fulfill your trust falt fully, and you
shall be rewarded. If this young braggadocio at-
temptsto follow you, I’ll attend to his case in the
usual st 1e."

And e clicki click! of the captain's revolver
illustrated what that st 16 was.

With a bow, Dwellyn ed the way out of the camp,
and, glad to escape Royal Ralp , whom she was
satisfied was an unprineipled knave, Pearl followed,
on the back of her pony. f course she knew
nothing as to where she was being taken, but she
felt that she could not fare worse than if she had
suffered herself to go with Royal Ralph.

As for him, he could only vent h s ill-feelings in
oaths, for, covered b the steady aim of Captain
Comn’s revolver. he ared not move in pursuit.

“ You see that might is power, Bouton," the
Whisky Chief observed dryly, as he held the young
rufflan in abeyance.

“ You said you’d have the girl, yet you are allow-
ing herto slip nicely through your fingers. You see
I reco you the minute you rode into camp. and
I cone uded to bathe you."

“ Who are on?” Royal Ralph growled, his curi-
osity getting: e better of his anger. “ N 0 one around
these parts nows me by that name— '

“Except me.“ Coffin finished, with a grim smile.
“Come ou may as well dismount and accept the
hospitali es of my cam?"

“Curse on. no. I'll ollow the girl i“ was the re-
ly, and t 6 next moment the whim bad dextrousl
un himself out of the saddle into the grass. 00 -

fin red, but was not qfuick enough, for Royal Ralph
Bed, with the agility o a snake, crawled away from

e cam .

“ Qulc i nick l" roared the Whisky Chief, furious-
ly, “ attert e accursed villain, and bring him back,

I wil not go with'

 

dead or alive. Five hundred dollars to those who
on ture him!“

nstantly there was a yelling response, and the
camp was deserted, while a score 0 eager outlaws
thrashed about over the prairie in search of the es-
caped rufflan. But, vain was their search. At the
end of an hour they all returned to cam , empty-
?andded, for not a trace of Royal Ralph ad been
oun .

With wonderful craft and cunning,he had suc-
ceeded in eluding them. and even now was striding
away over the praine, jubilant over his esca e.

“It‘s too bad!" Captain Coffin growled, ‘but it
can’t be helped. I suppose. However, kce or eyes
open. andI will reward the one who wil s not the
scoundrel on sight.“

The (is of Major Sterling‘s arrival at the camp of
the Red ifle Team was a pleasant one on the broad
rairies, although the sun emitted a breath of ex-
reme heat, for there was a freshening breeze blow-
ing. and everything pertaining to nature seemed
enfiying the tranquillity of the day.
ter Captain Ned had seen that a rousing meal of
fresh venison was prepared, Major Sterlin satisfied
his a petite; and, thanking all for the k nd atten-
tion estowed upon him e stretched himself out
for a nap, in the shade of’ the willow motte, close to
the camp.

He sle t peaceful] until about sunset, and then
mounts his horse w th the expressed intenlion of
takin a little gallop over the prairie for exercise.

“ 1’ advise gou not to venture too far from camp,
major," said tockton, as the old gentleman was
about to ride away. " There's a gang of outlaws in
this nei hborhood, belonging to a gigantic whisky-
ring, w. 0 do not hesitate at the commission of any
crime.

“ Ay, ayl I am not unaware of that. my boy: but
I am armed, and do not expect any danger. How-
ever I will kee watch."

“ You had est; and return, too, before the
shadows of night fall over the prairies, for ’tis then
that these vultures prey about. ‘

Whereupon the major smiled understandingly and
rode away.

He was a thorough equestrian, and agallop to him
was always invigorating, while to many it is fatigu-
infiand depreseing.

is animal, too, was a fine one ard easy to ride,
and the major rode ayl alon over the prairie un-
til he was far beyon sig t of tockton‘s camp.

Then when in a dot p, natural ravine. which would
seem to have been lowed by some mighty thunder.
bolt he recognized he fact that night was settling
swif;t‘l’y over the earth.

“ ell, welli it is stran e that my thoughts should
have been so preoccupie as not to notice where l
was going.” be muttered. gazing around him into
the gathering gloom. “Probably I shall have diffi-
cult in findin my we back to camp. Ugh! this
is a onesome en, and wonder my horse ever ven-
tured down here." . .

“Things which are invisible sometimes lead one
on to the brink of death." said a cool, mocking
voice; and locking behind him with a startled ex.
clamation. the major saw a horse and rider, not b. if
a dozen yards away, come to a halt. I

The man was burly, dressed in crimson buckskin.
and armed. and Ma'or Sterlin instantly con ectured
that he was one o the whis y outlaws o whom
Stockton had warned him.

He was considerably startled, but too old a soldier
to lose his self-composure. Turning horse
around so that he faced the siren er, he moved his
hand toward his belt. but aclickl c felt! in the direc-
tion of the masked outlaw. warned him to desist.

“You'd better not ull your pill-box!" the same
cool voice 5 Re, “ or 'tain‘t at all necessary to.
arouse the so 063 of the night with an loud reports
Old friends need not quarrel nor 1: they come to
serious blows," ‘

 

 

 

Buckhorn Bill.

 

Ma or Sterling scanned the man ahead of him as
close v as the darkness would permit as he answered:
“ I onot know what you mean. nor can I assign
any motive for your meeting me here. If you want
money. I‘ll permit you to take all you‘ll find upon

my person. ‘

‘ do not want money, David Sterlin -—that is the
least of all m wants. I came here. cause it is
the first time have allowed myself to see or meet
you in fourteen years i"

The major started up in his stirrups. his face
grown ashen white in a single moment.

" My God! can it be you—Lewis Sterling?" he
gasped, hoarselly. while again his hand sought the
region of his be t.

‘ Yes, I am Lew Sterling. your beloved brother, or
Captain Comn, Chief of the Press-Gang!" the outlaw
replied..with a strange chuckle. “There! there!
Don‘t meddle with your weapons. I say. for I’ve got
the drop on you. fine. Just be uiet and manifest
your doclllty and we’ll get on al right."

“No! it will never be all ri ht. between you and
me. devil that you arel" the w te-halred omcer re
plied, fiercely. “ M hatred for you is toode for
expression, and wi be everlasting. even though
birth has made you a brother of mine."

“Ah! those are hard words. David. What wrong
have I ever done that you should thus hate me, the
nearest of your kin now living? i remember no-
thins!"

“ What! Remember nothing?" the major fairly
yelled. a terrible passion rising in his heart and
words—“ dare you 311/, base hell-hound. that you
remember not ing of wrong you have done me?
Bah! I see your drift—you would mock at my
misery. because of the atrociousness of your ast
villalny. Mm. [have followed you all these our-
teen years. for revenge. At last we have met—met,
and here we must fight.”

“ Ohl well. if it's fight you're after. I reckon Ican
accommodate you." Coffin said. grimly. “But.
first, I want you to rehearse the drama. to see if
your memory is just and accurate. Time, you know.
makes great changes, both in body. mind and me—

me .“

“I; but do on think I could ever forget? Never!
Why re earse t e storyf—‘tis only one of great bit-
terness to me. You remember it all—how, in our

oung manhood. we. twin brothers. fell in love with

be same belle of our native village; how you at first
were the favored one. until i) your constant inebria-
tion and badness you fell rom grace. and I took
your place in the affections of Clara Stanford. A She

ound that I had at least the remlse of manhood in
me. and took me as a husban and rotector. One
short year were we married; then a ter the birth of
our twin babes, the R abelllon broke out. and my
patriotic spirit was restless until my dear wife he-
came enthused. and bade me leave her and the chil-
dren and go and il ht for the country of m birta. I
kissed them good- —forever, as it turn out. and
enlisted in the regu ar arm of the Union.

“ I was absent a matter of two years. and then re.
turned home on a furlough. That was fourteen

ears a, 0 this month. Ah! God. what a home I
ound—t esolate, and wifeless and childless! My
Clara. they told me, was dead—had been murderedl
and was new four months under the sod. Of my
children nothing was known. except that thev had
ared at the time of my wife’s death. Foul
murder and abduction had been rpetnte'i. but
upon no one could suspicion be safe y attached—not
until I missed you from the village. and was told
that vyou had left the place three months before for
the est. Then! suspected on. knowing of your
past defeat and terri le jea ousv—suspected you.
and grew to hate you with a deadly rancor. And if
it could be. that hate assumed three-fold proportions
when I found the letter you had left for me. declar-
ing your agency in the work. and that it was only
the b winning of your reven e. For a time I believe
I was crazed, but I Went bac to the army and fought

 

like a devil inspired. until the war ended. Then. I
turned my footsteps westward in search of on."

“ And at last on have found me.” Capta Oomn
said. with a ma icious chuckle: “and yet what does
it avail you? I have you in my power. thanks to
this revolver, and to raise a hand against me only
forieits your life. So be eeceful, for i do not wis
your blood upon my han s. because I have dipped
them deep enough in crime already."

“Tell me where are my children ?" Major Sterlin
said. watching the outlawed brother narrowly; " te
me where. and deliver them up to me. Then. and
only then, will I let the dead past bury the past.“

“Tell you!“ the Whisky Captain sneered malig-
nantly; “nol—not if I were to die this coming mo—
ment. Through them it is my purpose to strike you
a deeper blow. I have them in my possession et—
both grown up to beauteous womanhood. hey
would make society belles. if you could introduce
them to the East. But on cannot have that plea-
sure, for I haveahorrihle fate in store for each.
Pearl, the rettiest. shall marry one of the most re-
pulsive an brutal wretches I can single out on the
whole border, and Molly shall become the s unw of
old Red Nose. the Sioux warrior—a chief wit worse
gualtiiti’es than Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull com-

ine .

“ You (lemon l" the major gasped. writhing in his
saddle. “\led that God might strike you dead
where on sit!“

“ Bu He won’t. Brother David. for I and He are
on friendly terms. Now, them! want to advise
you to forever abandon the hope of getting os-
session of your children or injuring me, for t is
an impossibility. Go Doc to our eastern home in
your coming dotage. and die n the Lord. Should I
ever happen out that way. I'll have a fence-rail
erected at your head as a token of my memory
and esteem. But, whatever you do. be careful that

on fall not in with me again. nor with my men,
or our life shall ay the forfeit. The girls you
shal never see. if I rave to cut their throats and
bury them in the bottom of Loon Lake. Adieu.
David 1"

And suddenly wheeling his horsr. the Whisky
Chief dashed into the timber which flanked one side
of the ravine. and was gone.

Major Sterling pulled his revolver and fired, but
wi'hout effect as a wild, exultant yell proclaimed.

Captain Coffin had escaped, unharmed. With an
expression of undanmed resolution, the major rode
up out of the ravine. and galloped rapidly toward
the camp of the Red Rifle Team.

CHAPTER XII.

A FISH THAT BROKE TEE LlNE—AVENGING THI {ASI'
—BU’1‘ CAUGHT AT LAST.

Warm Buckhorn Blll found that it was impossible
to save himself from being jerked over into the
water, he caught his breath. and was {re ared for
the bath. Over he was ‘yanked ‘ by t e ease, and
down he went into the water out of sight.

But. over ready of wit and quick of action. he
was not idle, even while under the water. He knew
that the enemy now had a lastinge hold upon him.
and that unless he broke it. his fa was sealed. So
many times had he eluded the whisky rufflans.he
believed they would instantly put him to death. as
soon as he was surely in their power.

Fortunately. the rope hail drawn right about his
body, just above his elbows, leaving the lower part
of his arms free: and as he sunk beneath the cool
waves. he uicklv darted his right hand to his belt.
and drew s knife. Sweeping it around as far as he
could reach. he was successful in finding the cord.
A blow severed it, and he sunk deeper. and knew
that he was once more free!

He began ra ldl to rise toward the surface. but
made desperae e arts at swimming. and when he
did come up, it was some distance from where he
went dowm

 

Buckhorn Bill.

23

 

But he was not yet out of dan r—indeed. a horri-
hle discovery stared him in the ace!

From every direction men were swimming toward
him—human sharks. b the dozens—he cou d faintly
distinguish them. an also saw the boats of the
whisky-ring floating idly about. here and there.
Despa ring of ever catching the dreaded Scourge by
boat. the ruflians had taken to water, and funnier?
a com lete circle around him. had him nicely cag .

Buc horn Bill rceived this at o lance. and for
once was forced o admit to himself t at the chances
for life were slim. He had never been in quite so
close a trap. and it was a, puzzle to him to know how
he was to get out. He had yet his knife. and one
revolver in his bosom pouch, but was powerlessto
use them. for it required the use of both hands to
koe him afloat, to say nothing of ii htlng.

e approaching rufflans were in t e same fix, but
there were enough of them to take him without
raisin a weapon.

A g ance around. and Buckhorn Bill es .ied his log
conveiance. upon which he had venture out upon
the la e. It was but a few yards off; half a dozen

rhaps. while the approaching foes averaged a dis-

ance of thirty or forty yards. In that same glance
the Boy Scourge also made another discovery. A
boat was coming out toward them. from the eastern
shore. but there was no one visible in it. although
the oars worked re larly in their locksl

At another time, ill‘s curiosity would have been
aroused. but now he did not give the matter thought.
as he swam swiftly for the log. and gained and
crawled upon it. after which he w a precious
moment in giving an ear-splitting blast upon his
buckhom. '

ln moments of triumph this was a never-failing
habit of his.

A savage yell followed from the Press-Gang. but
they were powerless to do aught but yell. for the stifl.’
eveni breeze which was blowing out across the
water. ad carried their boats out of easy reach.
And this was a point in favor of Buckhorn Bill. So
long as his ammunition lasted, he would hold his
enemies at his mercy!

Dropping his buckhom. he quickly opened his
water-tight breast-pocket. and out came his precious
revolver to do its deadly work. First he took those
nearest. as they came. until ever cartridge in his
seven-shooter was emptied, and t erefore had seven
of. the whisky roughs sunk forever beneath the
waves.

But. Buckhorn Bill fought not these human sharks
alone. for death-yells rent the air which his bullets
did nor occasion: and yet there were no reports of
other weapons than his own!

He knew the reason, without giving a glance of in-
quiry around.

Death Shadow. the mysterious avenger. was near
with his noiseless gun; it was his skid which Bill had
seen approaching from the eastern shore. He did
glance around. however, after he had emptied his
revolver. but though he saw the boat. and the gleam-
ing barrel and muzzle of a rifle. he could see nothing
of the aven r. but the to of a bear-skin cs .

But. swlf as had been he retribution wh ch had
overtaken the outlaws. those remaining unscathed
were still pressing forward. and some of them were
not a dozen yards away. Then he heard a quick re-

rt. close at hand. felt a sharp. stinging sensation in

he on of his temple—staggered. lost his balance
in? became a blank as he sunk once more in the
a e.

When he awoke. he gave a gasp—it was like com-
ing out of a drum.

He was not in the water, nor on the ground of the
forest or prairie. Instead. he was lying upon a rude.
straw-tilled mattress. which was supported by an
iron bedstead. in a little room. with two small win-
dows up near the ceiling. and a door. The floor was
of rough timber. unplaned, and the furniture con-
sisted of but a common deal-table. on which a candle
dimly burned. and a single chain

/

 

The room had evidently been made fora rison.
as the door was thick. heavy and handrd wit iron.
and there were iron bars at the windows.

Buckhorn Bill noticed these th swit'n an observ-
ing glance. as he sat upon the go of his cot and
wondered greatly where he was.

“I reckon these ’Hre surroundings belong to the
Press-Gang. an' thet l‘ln in their den i" he muttered.
rubbing away a fr: w drops of blood that had cos -
lated upon his forehead. from the bullet bruisefiig
had received upon the lake. “ Wish I knowed where
I am. anyhow. Seems like a prison in beer. and
likely it is. S'pect I'll hrv a visit from Captain Cof-
fin. directly. and then I‘ll get blessed accordin‘to
St. Matthew."

Feelin tired and weak._he did not immediately
arise. bu waited until he felt more rested. Then he
arose to his feet and hogan a closer observation of
his prison. As he walked to and fro the floor he-
neath his {Oct rocked. which convinced him that his
prison was upon water—indeed. he could hear the
water lapping against the outside.

On try ng the door he found it to be securely fast-
ened “Eon the other side. which was convincing
proof t at he was in a prison.

“ Guess they‘ve got me tight enough this time " he
muttered, as he stood still and gazr (1 around within
the limits of the apartment, at loss how to act.
“ Durned if I know what to do. it’s mi hty certain
that it won‘t be health for me to remix n here long,
unless the whisky devi s are more lenient than 1 ex-
pect. And the walls and floors are too strong for
me to break through.“ ‘

Going back to the cot. he sat down and buried his
face in his hands. Generally he was quick to plan.
but now he could think of none. His prison was in-
vincible.

“Wonder how old Death Shadow got out of the
muss. and who the old Varmint is?” he muttered.
“I reckon between us that we released about a
dozen or fifteen spirits. and I only wish that it had
been more. for poor mother and aolin would rest
easier in their graves. ill but kin a teller see. through
them windows. up there?"

Making as little noise as possible. he placed a chair
upon the rough table. and peered out. What he
saw but comp eted his former theory. His prison
was upon a monster boat or barge—he had never
seen a craft of such dimensions. never havin seen
the ocean shipping. The float was built 0 logs.
withed and roped together. and these in turn were
covered with a rude plank floor. Judging from
what he could see by peel in out of the two opposite
windows of his prison. Buc horn Bill utihe width
of the bug? ata hundred feet by a ength of two
hundred. pon it were several ten-by-twelve box-
houses. similar to what he calculated his was. but
aside from these the floor was empty.

Nor could he see any signs of an mated life witthin
the scope of his vision. As his ri on stood. the we
wmdows looked out the two lengths of the boat. or
barge in the westward and in the eastward direc-
tionll he judged by the stars. and reflection of moon-
light upon the island. which was at one end of the
float. He decided that the strange craft v as lying
on water of 9. “hide” or bayou at the western side
of the island. To this hsyou there wasn channel
entrance in the’shape of an s. inverted. of sufficient
width to admit of the passage of the barge. The
shares of the assage. however. were thickly tim-
bered with a m ore of balsams and reeds of extra-
ordinarv hight. so that from the western shore of

11 Lake the existence of the shug pocket or
bayou would not have been suspected. At the east-
ern end of the barge. the shore of the island was
visible. the rough. rocky und stretching back
and u ward. until it was 0st in a wilderness of

n lsams. Al-o. at the nose of the barge upon
t e shore. was built a low pier. the top of it ranging
even with the deck of the barge. Upon this there were
several barrels standing.

“At last the secret of the Whisky distillery is no

 

 

24

longer a mystery “ Buckhorn Bill muttered, excited-
ly. " It is coated upon this isolated island, and this
barge is used to transport the whisky ashore. Hurrai
I‘m now gladIesoaped death to meet imprisonment.
here, for it has been a revelation."

He watched for awhile until he grew tired; then
descended from his perch, and replaced the chair
and table.

" If the varmints would only’ve left me my shoot<
in'-irons and knife, I’d make et sultry for ’em yet,"
he muttered, " but I hain‘t got so much as aweapon.
I wonder how I shall manage it, for I’m hound not
to vein. as long’s there‘s any hope."

e satdown again, and knitted his brows. thought-
fully, his plain, good-natured face growing hand-
some. unconsciously, in his eager devotion to the
studying of the problem of what course was best to
pursue.

The night were on slowly, and it seemed as if it re-

tted exchanging places with morning. so earnest-
y did it hang on. But at last the light came in
through the barred windows, and Buckhorn Bill
knew that dawn was breaking. '

He raised his head. a look of resolve upon his

face.

“Home of the gang‘ll be coming. soon." he muh
tered, “and it’s my onl chance to escape death.
though I don't know i I can make a successful
corpse."

He however made pre arations; it was, as he had
aid. his only chance or prologged life. Picking
0 en the wound upon his forehe he allowed the
b nod to ooze out and down upon his cheek. Then
he laid himself down u n the couch. in a sition
similar to that in which 6 had found himse f lying,
when he regained his consciousness.

Then he waited. It was his hope that some of the
outlaws would come soon. and then, on seeing that
he was insensible. would leave the door open, or
mayhap give him a chance to grab aweapon and

t for his life and liberty

or w’s he disappoiu ed in their coming. An
hour of waiting and suspense dragged by: then there
was a tram of heav -booted feet, the door was un-
locggd, pa ly opene . and a shaggy head thrust into

8 .

5‘ Come in. pals," said the owner of the head. the
next moment. “The boy‘s a ‘stiff.’ I guess-layin’
jest w’ar we put him.“ .

Rather stealthin the leader, Captain Greg. and
three other rufflans cre t into the room; but they
looked the door behind hem and stood aloof. with
drawn revolvers.

“ Yas. he‘s deader‘n a door-nail,” Gregg observed,
ill concealing, a. shudder. “I know’d et, when we
fe hed him in.“

“ What’ll ye do wi‘ himi—toss him inter the lake?“
“ Nol not et—not till ther chief returns."

“ Goin‘ to save him beer. then?”

"Yes; mirht as well. Don’t reckon he‘ll smell,
till Collin returns."

The villains then turned and left the room. and
Buckhorn heard the door look behind him, which
told him he was not to escape. et.

He laid for some time revo wing diiferent plans
over in his mind, but settling on none, definitely.

At last he arose. and first drank of, and then
washed in a bucket of fresh water which be found at
the head of his cot. He was just finishing. and dry-
ing his face, when he heard a key grate in the loc ,
and saw the door of his prison cautiously open.

CHAPTER XIII.
roam 'rox mo smw'r won.

Tamas had been an inactive witness to the capture
of Buckhorn Bill. by the Press-Gang, upon the lake
that lit, who was no less a person than Turtle
Tom. w om, it will be remembered, Bill left on the
eastern shore of the lake. on the night he was first
decayed by the outlaws.

The young trapper had been forced to leave the
neighborhood. because of the presence of so many

 

Buckhorn Bill.

fees. and had scouted about in the adjacent woods
until the following night, when he had eme upon
the northern shore, just in time to witness t e scene
in which Buckhorn fell from the log upon being
wounded. and was gobbled up and borne away to
the island by the human sharkswho had surrounded

him.

Efforts had also been made by the outlaws to cap‘
ture the mysterious avenger, old Death Shadow, but
in his boat he had quickly at them at distance, and
disappeared far down the aka.

A ter seeing the outlaws disappear upon the Bal-
sam Island. Turtle Tom turned sorrowfully away
from the shore back into the forest aisles. where the
moonlight occasionally made long bars of l ht.

“ it's too bad that Buckhom should go nn er." he
muttered. “ for he’s about as square sort of fellow
as there is along the border' but I don‘t see how
I'm to go to his rescue alone. 've had my ex eri-
ence on that accursed island, an‘ ain‘t so 101 y to
renew it," and here a shadow stole over the hon 1-
some features of the young trapper. “ I can't
b'lieve Bill‘s more’n stunned. an' ef he ain’t. 'tain‘t
likely they‘ll finish him up until Coflin goes back to
headquarters. Ere that time, I must contrive to
rescue Bill somehow. I suspect the ‘ll cage him
on the old barge. or else take him up in to the distil-
lery. It must 6 pretty near time, too, for them to
make a run."

“ Ef ye mean by thet their race is purty near run,
I do solem agree wi’ yei" spoke a voice. and a
heavy hand s apped him on the shoulder. “ Did ye
see ‘em scoop in Buckyhom William. Tomassetty?"

“ Yes, 1 saw ‘em.“ the young trapper rephed
wheeling around. “ Hellol Old Eiep ant, by all
that’s joyful! J ovel you're the last man I expected
to meet. How are you?”

“ Fat and healthy. Tom, but alas! fallen frum my
mission 0’ tryin‘ ter Christianize Injuns an‘ white
cusses ter ther common leVel uv a scout and skulp-
tanner. Why, Tomassetty dear, ef ye‘d seen thcr
hooman skulps I’ve tuk durin‘ ther last two a’nums.
ye’d be skeerd. I manyfacter ther hide inter sham-
my-sk‘ins an‘ use thei' hair ter make false mus-
iaches with fer young men as can’t raise 'em. But
where’ve you bin this year or so? Don’t remember
of seein’ on.”

“No. on are the second one that has seen me
since a year ago. I‘ve been serving out an appren-
ticeship at making barrels and hung: and whisky,“
with a wave of is hand toward t eisland. and a
bitter lau h.

“ What you hain‘t bin one o’ ther victims 0‘ Cap
Comn‘s Press-Gang, hev ye. T‘omasi“

"I have, unfortunately):a and only esca ed a few
days ago, though I’ve en tryin faith ully ever
since I was forced into their toils. But of this
enough. until some other time. You saw the devils

get Bucklioru Bill?"

‘_‘Lordy, ycsl an‘ at r‘iled my blood so thet et
bailed up an’ e’ena’most slapped over. Reckon of
my un ked hev spit her compliments thet fur I
sho d hev disregarded ther hog commandmen ,
an‘ made a few more human sti s. Poor Billlaml
he was ther pure quill, cl‘ar through ‘n‘ through,
war Bill."

“ A fine fellow, and one to be itied. for itis shard
rub to lose one‘s parents, Elep ant; I know it by
experience. To be sure mine warn't fu’st-class—
that is, warn‘t educated up to the top-notch. nor
high-toned, like sum. but they war good. all the
same, an‘ many a red nigger's bit the dust in pay fer
their slaughter. But. E ephant. do you believe that
Bill’s dead?"

“ Dunno, T‘omas; kindera peared to me thet he
drapped in ther natteral fas on."

“ know; but I don’t think he was more than
stunned, or else the Press-Gang wouldn’t have
touched him.“

“Yas—mebbe ye’re right there."

"And in the case that he‘s alive we must go to
his rescue."

Buckhorn Bill. ' 85

 

“ Exactly. We ken‘t let ther lad be chawed up by
them onmannerly galoots. Ef e've bin on the
island, I reckon ye know how the and lays."

I “Yes. We cannot go alone—must have a larger
orce. ‘

“Then, I‘ve jist a prime ijeer, scooped up from
ther depths uv my kernoodleum. Thor’s a party 0‘
chaps camped out back here on the prairie, what’s
bin sent down heer hy the Goveynerment, ter hunt
down these illicit distillers and their leader’s the
young detective, Captain ed Stockton. He an‘
Buckhorn Bill used ter be friends a couple years ago,
2171' van bet Ned’ll be glad ter giVe us a 1ft."

“ Your plan is good. I am slightly acquainted with
Stockton myself. Shall we at once go for them?“

“ No, not till mornin‘; daylight is best for our pur-
pose. So let‘s cam down beer, and wait. I've got
a little docky'ment want to show ye."

Searching fora time in the belt of dense forest,
they at last found a secluded little hollow in the
shade of a huge shelving rock, where all was of
midnight darkness. Turtle Tom built a little blaze
of dry twigs, and then the two men throw them-
selvesdupon the bed of leaves, which covered the
groun .

“Beer's the dockyment I mentioned." said O'd
Ele hant producing a crumpled sheet of note-paper,
an han ing itto Turtle Tom. “I manyfactered a
stiff backfire to-night and found this in ther chap’s

cket. ckon mebbey you ken decipher them

tan-tracks, eh i?"

“ Yes.” said the young trapper, smiling. “I fortu-
nately am in this secret. This paper is the dispatch
of the Whisk Ring. These hieroglyphics and
scrawis are p nted from an electrotyped plate in
the hands of the President of the lea e at old Fort
Alexander. He supplies Cnfl‘in an every acting
member of the Ring with packages of these papers.
What you see here is simply to blind and puzzle you
——-the writing is in milk, on the other side."

Holding the paper over the. heat of the blaze, the
trapper soon had all the writing drawn out. visible
tot e naked eye. The following was the mesmge,
which he read aloud:

“ CAPTAIN Gonna—A day or two after you re-
ceive this. an emigrant wagon-train will (as usual)
camp on the eastern shore of Loon Lake. They are

r and needy, and if you can give them anything,
0 it, cautiously and expeditiously, and send them
away. P. W. R."

“ Waali weali" observed Elephant, drawing away
at his pipe, “ what do at mean ‘

“ Mean? It means that the usual wagon-train
which transports the illicit whisky to the Northern
Pacific Railroad will soon arrive here upon the lake-
shore for their load. But we must make it our point
to watch for them, and see that they nevu- take
away their cargo of hell-fire. I wih Buckhorn Bill
Were here with us, fer he’d make us a good leader,
and would make victor a great victory as an inevt-
table cons uence. e succeeds in nearly all he
undertakes!

“ But he ain‘t out an’ won‘t be till we git him."

“ Not unless he has aid from another source,"
Tom replied, thoughtfully, “ as I hope he will have."

Little more was said, but the tire died out and the
two scouts dropped oil! into a sound, refreshing

slee .

A? the first approach of day they were astir, how-
ever, and after hreakfasting on dried venison, of
which Elephant always carried a supply in his
haversack, they set out for the camp 0 the Red
Rifle Team.

It was a distance of eight miles, and therefore the
sun was climbing well toward the meridian, ere they
reached the camp.

Here, of course they were accorded a warm wel-
come by Captain lied and his men for Stockton was
Remand usinth with Turtle Tom, while be

ad h muc of Old Elephant b report.

First of all the men were rented a good dinner,

 

 

and then Tom related much of v: hat is known to the
reader, and plans were discussed and formed.
So that long ere the shadows of night came on the
aorta and whiskyhunters were m mute for Loon
.8.

 

Buckhorn Bill gazed at the o ened door in great
astonishment, and saw a smal girlish figure glide
into the room—then sprung forward, joyfully, with
the exclamation:

“ Molly Miner. as I live!"

" Yes. Molly Miner—better known as Whisky Bill‘s
daughter!" the girl replied advancing fearlessl ,
and extending her hand. “ am sorry to see you {n
this redicament. Mr. Burnham."

“. am I Molly. But, see hnyr; s‘ os’in‘ you
drop' the Mister. Buckhorn Bill's goo enuff fer
me.’

“ Very well; I'll call you Bill then, or—Willie," the
Nymph of the Lake replied, a faint color tinge-
ing her brown cheeks. “You ought to have kept
away from the lake, as I warned you, and then
nothing would have ha \pened, erhaps, to you.”

“i know you did, ear Mo ly. but the human
mind and heart ever yearn for greater knowled e,
an’ I wanted ter discover the topography uv this sl-
aud, or bu‘st—an' l bu‘sted.”

“Exactlv i" the girl replied. with a smile. “I am
sorry 1/014 have got in the power of the gang. But,
how did ou do when Gregg and his fellows came?
The sai on were quite dead, and I came to see,
for didn‘ believe it. ’

“ Oh! I played ‘possum—layed flust whar they put
me, an‘ looked the best I know ’d 10W like a natteral
‘stiff;' an' the ongainly cowards war 'i‘raid ter ('lllll
m-ar me. So they rendered their verdict, while
standin' at a distance, an‘ departed." ,

And liill laughed outright at the absurdity of his
performance. llut something else was on his mind
--for he added:

” Do you know thet Whisky Bill. as you call him,
is the father of another child in Squatterville?"

“I know nothing of the kind, sir," the girl re lied,
accepting the chair she had heretofore decined.
“The Pearl of the Prairies is no child of Whisky
Bill‘s. He has told me that he was never harried. '

“Hal this a revelation.”

“Yes. He made it to me once, out of spite. I
guess. He told me that Pearl Prescott was related
0 me, but did not say how near. He moreover said
that we were of the name Sterling, but I chose the
name of Miner until I was sure of the right one."

“ How long, then, have you been with these illicit
whisky outlaws?"

"Ever since my earliest recollection; They were
down in Colorado, until four years ago, when they
came up here. I used to have aTexan lad com-
panion, who taught me, but she is now dead. ’

"Then you have never tried to escape from the
outlaws?"

“No. for Ishould not have known where to go;
besides, Ihave alwa s had a home such as it was.
and my freedom. an was respected b Whisky Till
and the rest of the gang, exce t Capt n Collin. He
has often been rude and even rutal to me but this
was only in times when Bill Mine . or Bill hurdelle,
as on know him, was absent at uatterville."

‘ Do you think you would like to leave here now.
and u"? out into the world. where you would be hap-

“I don't know. for I‘ve never given the matter
an thought. Besides. no one would want me. and
I s ould shunned, while here I am in no society
but my own."

“Ma be I can contrive to get you two from here
soon 1” Bill said thoughtfully. " Coul you trust
yourself to go with me?"

" Maybe—I don’t know." she replieda flush mount-
ln her forehead. and prettily crimsonin here eeks.
“ ut, I must go. now. for I don't want 0 be can ht
here by the outlaws. Should they pay you one a;-
visit, play dead again. it will give me a chance to

 

 

26

Buckhorn 3111.

work out your escape. ’l‘o-night a cargo of whisky
will beloaded, and. then. when the train arrives. the
boat will put out for the eastern shore. Be watch-
ful ‘and hopeful, and I‘ll try to get you out. Good-

y. \

“ Good-by and ma God bless you.“ the young
Scourge sad . fervent y, as she turned away. perhaps
to conceal the sad impression that grew upon her
face. as she thought t at it might be impossible for
her to help him esca e.

In a moment she had left the prison, and Bill heard
the key grate once more in the ock.

 

CHAPTER XIV.

TE]. EKIGEANT TRAIN—LOADING THE BAR-GE —'rwo
HANDS GOOD—FOUR. BETTER.

Tan Red Rifle Team arrived on the lake~shorc at
moon»rlse. that 11 hi and after pitching their cam
back in the w s. Cs tain Ned. Turtle Tom. an
Old Elephant started orth to make observations.
Major Sterling was also along. for since he had
learned that Captain Coffin was the man they were
after, the old officer had strong hopes of finding his
two lost dau hters.

After arri g at the eastern edge of the lake, they
stopped and scrutinized the waters, upon which the
moon shed a spectral light.

None of the outlaws' boats were in sight. to excite
suspicic n; the lake lay like adeserted desert of blue;
far away, to the naked eye. looked the Balsam
Island. which Turtle Tom pointed out as a strong-
hold and dislillery-place of the whisky ring.

“It'sa bad place to make an attackl” said Ned
Stockton. at an instant glance “ You see the devils

» could lie in the shade and pick us oil. should we at-
tem I: to reach the spot. How many are there,
Frai ey, on that island 2" .

“Ireckon you've ot me there. captain!“ Turtle
Tom re lied. scratching his head. “ I never counted
‘em. at I reckon thar must beahout fifty regulars,
aside from the gang under Coffin—the Press-Gang,
properly. ’l‘har‘s sum twenty or thirty uv them."

“ And then there are slaves. eli?—or rather. men
who have been pressed into service."

“ Yes—about twenty more of them. among whom
are several old prairie scouts, hunters, trappers, and
farmers, some of them from Burnham's co ony."

“ Inlleeedi would they fight for the whisky ring?"

“They are bitter over the brutality that has been
extended them. an‘ I reckon they’d all tight for
libert . if they had weapons.“

“ ell, then. leaving them out of the question. al<
together, we have some seventy or eighty roughs to
contend with i?“ said Captain Ned.

“ 1:523, I guess them‘s :about the flggers of the
case.

“Then, you see, we‘ve got to go slow and work
sharp to attain a victory. ’l‘en men—yes. tWelve
men against eighty. is scarcel worth speakln : of;
vet we may be able to accomp ish wonders. Buck-
horn Bill we cannot help. at present.”

Thev went back to the camp. and then Captain
Ned d had five of his men to keep guard at
different points on the lake-shore. while he lit his
Pipe and spent a full hour in unbroken reflection.

{c then s kc.

“ I see ut one way to accomplish anything satis-
factorily,” he said, addressing those who were
gathered near the cam fire, “and this is my lan.
Coffin and his gang wil soon go back to the is and,
probably. and we won't hinder them. When the
whis caravan arrives. we will ascertain the force
they ave and if possible take them prisoners.
Then. I wi dispatch some one to the island. to let
the outlaws know of the train‘s arrival, and they—a
part of them will come ashore with the whisky."

“ Good, so far." nodded ‘l‘urtl 1 Tom. approvinzlv.
" Thor’s, is generally about fifteen men come with the

“ Well, then, a. swift, sudden attack will use them
up. and—"

 

“You have sixty odd men on the island ct to
get," suggested Old Elephant. " How about t «m f"
“ We‘l see to that afterward. it is better not to
18.11 too much work at a time. If we get a score. of
he devils alive, I won’t complain."

An hour passed. and then one of the guards came
in with the announcementthat Ca tain Coffin and
his Press-Gang were crossing the nice toward the
Balsam island.

“Let ’em gol" commanded Captain Stockton.
“lWe‘re too weak in numbezs to attempt to capture
t iem.

“ Yes. for they are devils in a fight," said Turtle
Tom. “I heard one of the ‘slaves.’ as those are
called who have been pressed into service. say that
four years ago. Captain Coffin and the ang massa~
crud a party of soldiers down in Co orado, and
scalped them all, and the crime was attributed to
the rod-skins."

“No doubt; but the cusses ’ll get their necks
stretched when it's found out."

The remainder of the night passed without any
great amount of conversation; nor was the tmn-
quillity of the camp disturbed.

But early in the morning there were strange
noises heard on the clear air—the rumble of heavy
squeaking wagons. and the shouts and curses of
oxen-drivers. not far away from the camp oi' the
Rifle 'l‘eam.

T“l’t‘s the whisky bull-train." announced Turtle
om.

" And they‘re so near that it will be necessar for
us to change ihe location of our camp!" said t ock-
ton. " \Ve’ll hurry and get away urther to the
north. and then make a reconnaissance of the train."

According] . the main body of the men were
called in, an a. s at for the new camp was selected
about a mile furt or u i the north shore.

Then. Stockton and Turtle ’l‘om set 03 toward the
place where they expected to find the train. ' hey
moved with exceeding caution. forit was far from
desirable that they should be discovered.

“I think I have the best idea yet." said Turtle
’l‘om, as they advanced. “ Your red uniform great-
lv resembles the darker crimson ones worn by the
Press-Gang. At least. I don‘t think the ignorant
rufflans in charge of the train would recognize the
diiference. On each time when they arrive at the
lake. it is customary for them to send a negro over
to the island to inform Coffin of th! ir arrlva . Now.
then. you‘re to go into their camp, and represent
yam-self as one o the ring, and offer to ride the nlg~
ger to the island in a boat. where he generally has to
float or swim on a log. You then can bring him into
cam . and we‘ll thoroughly bull-doze him.

“ fter we‘ve found out what we want, I‘ll black
up with some pre oration I have, and go to the
is and. I'ilieil Co a. and take the libertv of the
cam , and see what I can do for Buckhorn Bill."

“ till better." said Stockton, “mebbe you‘d bet-
ter don my togs and visit the train yourself. for
you’re better acquainted with the nature of the busi-
ness.

“Very well; for. come to think. the nigger. Joe,
has seen me at work in the distille '. and no suspicion
of our game will be created. 1 a 0 know the driv-
e generally. by name."

0 two youn men accordingly exchanged gar-
ments, after wh ch they stole on.

In due time they gained a position in the wood-
land, from where they could look down upon the
camp of the hull-train. camping in alittle glade clone
to the shore of the lake.

There were eight canvas-covered prairie schoon-
ers. each of which was drawn by two teams of burly
oxen.

A camp-fire had been built upon the ground. and
around t is six half-breed women were engaged in
toasting recently killed venison.

Nine men were loun ng around, being for the mast
part octo-breeds. or exans, while among them one
negro was conspicuous.

Buckhorn Bill. 8‘?

 

“ It’s a hard-looking Fang," said Stookton. “If we
take them so easily, I‘l be surprised."

“You’d better attack them at night," Tom re—
filled, ” before it‘s time for the barge to come ashore.

y the time you’ve killed or taken them, you'll have
your hand in for the others."

Stockton then took his leave, and the young trap-

ier waited but a few moments, ere be advanced
boldly into the camp.

His coming created no manifestations of surprise
nmlong the bogus emigrants, for they simply stared
at 1im.

“ Is Bug Terral here ‘2“ Turtle Tom demanded, tak-
inf; a seat on one of the huge hubs of the wagon
w ieels, with utmost compos re.

“ Yes I reckon I'm that indervidual, young teller,"
said a. brawny, bloated rough, who supported the
heaviest beard Tom had ever seen. “ What d‘yc
want beer?”

“ aal, I reckon’d you war the train w’at’s run]
after the whisky," was the reply, “ so I left oif my
notion o’ huntin’ an‘ cum down to see. Sent yer
nigger over yeti”

“No, but I was jest astheukin‘ o’ sondin’ him.
Coffin s cxpectin’ us. I suppose, ain‘t he!”

" I guess not, articularly, fer all ther president’s
messa es have con waylaid and co )tured by hun-
ters. T or w’i’sky’s purty neer ready, guess though;
so of ye‘re goin‘ ter send yer nigger he kin ride
over in the boat, if he comes along with me."

“ ll right—go ’long wi' ye, Joe lyou cuss, nn'
stay lill t e barge comes over. Ef see er black
bmoo on this shore before that time, I'll s ‘11 yo.“

Joe. who was a sensible fellow profited by the
rude train-master's advice, and 11 company with
Turtle Tom was seen hurrying back through the
forest toward the camp of the Red Rifle Team. As
soon as they arrived there, the astonished darky
was seized and bound hand and foot, and the muz-
zle of a revolver held against his forehead with the
threat that if yo yelled, he would get the contents of
the weapon.

"Now. then, you black rascal!" said Captain NHL
assuming as stern an aspect as possible, “ what‘s
your name?"

“ Joseph Snow, sir!" was the reply.

“ Snow eh? Well. that is a rather bad joke, Imust
say—on t e snow. Now. Joseph, do you know what
I‘m going to do with you, if you don‘t answer all I
ask ou? ’

“ 0, Sir!"

“ Well I'm goin‘ ter make a black angel of you. if
you don‘t disgorge; and mind, you get the some, if
you lie to me. Now, then, answer straightforward.
andl’li be mild With you. Do you belong to this
Whisky Ring?”

“No, sir; [work for Bug Tn 111."

” You‘ve often been over to t e island ?"

"Ye" 311-, very of‘n."

“ And know Cap Coffin!"

“ Yes, sir, jes’ as well as I know myself."

“Do you have your liberty, and do as and go
whe‘iée you please, while on the island?"

“ e , sir!

“ I'een 1n the distillery l?"
“ Yes, sir."

“That‘s all. at present. Tom, Iguess it will be
safe for on to venture across.”

Accor ng Tom rq-exchanged clothes with Cap-
tain Ned, an then With Joe now, after which he
blacked up, and all the ran ers declared that he
was a clever counterfeit of ie genuine Snow—al-
most Snow himself.

In his prison on the whisky barge, Buckhorn Bill
took the remainder of the day easy, after the de ar-
ture of Moll Miner, the Nymph. He knew t ere
was no way n which he could esea e until he re-
ceived aid from outside; and there are he resolved
not to worry nor chai'c in his confinement, but make
the best of l until something turned up

. A short time after sunset 9. man came and lit two I

 

headlights, one on each end of the boat, and then
took h s departure. It was these lights, or rather,
one of them, which Bill had previously seen upon
the lake.

Not long had the man been gone, when the door
was again unlocked, and Molly Miner hurriedly on-
tereg ili's preshence.

". on re 0 ave company,” she said, s eakinr
rapidly, “and likewise a chance for esca e? which
you must improve to the best of your obi ity. The
gang have got possessxon of your old sweetheart.
Pearl Piescott, and Ugly Gregg has ordered her to
be locked up in here with you, he believing you to
be a corpse."

f‘Ruthrr a lively corpse l“ Buckhorn grinned.
“ \\ hat else?"

“ \\ oil. I have equipped her, unbel'nown to the
gang. nith asaw. an anger. and two loaded seven—
shooters. You must saw a hole through this south-
ern wall, which is thin and opvns directly u on the
water, and then trust to 'our luck in escaping. li’
possuble I will be near at land."

And ere Bill could find words to properly express
his thanks, she was gone.

Night came on slowly. it seemed to the anxious
young Scourge, but at last heavy footsteps shook
the barge once more, and the (lror oi’ Ilm prison was
unlocked. opened, and a, person piuhed rudely in-
side; then it was Jerked quickly shut and locked

again.

“Bi ii" called a clear, anxious voice, “are you
here?"

“ You bet I am i" was the low repl ', and Buckhorn
advanced and warmly clasped ban of the Prairie
Pearl's hands ‘in his. "I‘m sorry to sce you here,
Pearl; but we cannot waste time. li’ you have the
saw and an anger, let me have them."

l‘eurl retreated into Ihe darkness a moment, and
then came forward with the tools. Bill seized tho
auger, and began the work of tscaping by attacking
the southern wall of the building.

He bored several holes through, to make a. path-
way for his saw, and then dropped the anger. and
the saw took its place. After watching him work
a few moments, Pearl stepped forward.

"You bore you another path, and let me man-
age this saw! ’ she said, brow  “ My arms are
strong. and if two hands are goo , four may certain-
ly be a little better.

“But this is too heavy work for you," Bill dc-
clared, in surprise.

“Noi no! hurry; let me saw, for we need to es-
ca 3 as soon as ossible."

coordin'rly t ey both set to work. and with afair
prospect o soon having an rpening made. But
there were loud shouts outside. and the outlaws be-
gan to roll barrels of whiky aboard the barge.

“They are loading up," said Buckhorn, in vexa-
tion " and we shall have to quit. lest we attract at-
tention to our eitorts at esca ing. You crouch on-
der in the corner,und1‘ll do these tools, an as-
sume my old position of a cor so."

The tools were secreted un er the bed, and then
each possessing a loaded revolver, Pearl and the
Boytsaiourgs assumed their relative positions, and
we c .

 

CHAPTER XV.
PLAYING onosr—cmomso 'rnn runs.

Tar. work of loading the barge occupied consid-
erable time. which was positive torture to the two
prisoners. The barrels were rolled by hand down
the hill out of the island balsam woods. and thence
onto the pier, from whence it was but a step onto
the barge. Some fifteen or twenty men were en-
guged in the work of bringing an loading—ad of
them rough fellows, with lanterns slun at their
hips. Amon them. the two leadin sp rits were
Captains Co n and Gregg, but they id not partici-

ate in the labor exoe t its supervision. After
ying awhile. Buck'horn ill arose, and placed tse
table and chair before the eastern window.

 

 

2 8 Buckhorn Bill.

 

" I ain‘t u-uoin‘ to-r play stifl.‘ until it is necessary."
he said to Pearl. with a cool lau h. “Idon’t reckon
those fellows will invade until t ey‘re through with
their wor ."

So he mounted upon his perch to look from the
window. It was interestin to watch the strange.
weird scene; to see withw at skill the heavy har-
rels were handled. Some seventy or eighty barn is
of this illicit whisky were brought down and loaded
upon the barge; then the lights were put out. and
the majority of the men trumped back into the hal-
sam woods of the island. Two remained upon the
barge. Gregg and Captain Coffin. They appeared
to be engaged in animatei conversation upon some
topic. but from his position Bill was not able to catch
the drift of it.

“I wish the 'd go along off the barge, so‘s I could
finish that 10 f‘ )6 muttered. “ Ain’t afraid. are
ye. Miss Pearl?’

“ No!“ was the answer in a fearless tone—“ not
when I‘ve got a weapon to defenl myself with. Are
those men all gone? ’

“ All but Coffin and another galoot. They‘re out
here taikin’ vet."

“ Do you think they‘ll come in here?"

“ Pro ably they will. I was just wishin‘ they
would; so that I could go on with my carpenter
work. ‘

But the two outlaws did not up ar to be of a re-
tiring disposition. for they chatte on. undisturbed-

1y.

“I have an idea, Miss Pearl," Buckhorn said.
awhile later. "Pray excuse me for my seeming
impertinence. but, «I0 you wear mhit‘epetticoatx I“

“Why, y-e-sl" the astonished girl replied, her
cheeks crimsoning. “ Why?"

“Because. if you‘ve got a couple you Can conven-
iently do without. I want to borrow them. Here‘s
my plan, in a nutshell. as they say. I‘ve ust been
lucky enough to discover a piece of ch k in my
pocket. W th it I'll whiten.my face. and b aid
0; yoju'r skirts transform myself into a creditable
g as . ’

Pearl saw that it was not worth while to let
mock modesty interfere, where there was any show
of escaping from their desperate dilemma' so, while
Bill turned his attention to matters outside. she di-
vested herself of her underskirts. and then Bill
came down. and she handed them to him, with a.
flushed face and drooping eyes.

Arran ing one skirt about his waist. so that it fell
to his eet. he shirred the other about his neck.
This made him a full flowing robe. And then when
his face was whitened with chalk. and a large white
handkerchief tied down over his head, he presented
truly a. frightful appearance.

“ There; will I make a good ghost?” he demanded,
turning to Pearl.

“Yes, ca ital." she replied with a smile. “ Do
you e’i'r’pect frighten those men with that appear-
once

“I’m going to it," Bill replied, whitening his
hands. “ 80 h of t em Ihelieve to be cowards at
heart, and if i can scare them. so much the better,
for they'll most likely vamose. and we can finish our
job, yonder.”

“B’llt you may be wrong, and they may shoot

“Oh! I’ll watch out f it that. I‘ll keep an eye on
’em when they come in, and if they pull a 'pussy,’
I'll dro 'em both, on short notice."

Pear . at Bill’s request. lay prone upon the floor
in a position apt .to cause one to think she had
fainted and fallen. Then the young Scourge took a

tion toward the rear end of the prison, first hav-
arranged his hat and jacket upon the cot. so as
to ook as if he still lay there.

It was fully an hour are anything was heard of
the two outlaws: then a key grated in the lock. and
the door of the apartment swung partly open—wide
aritlghflto admit the head and masked face of 0 m-

o 11.

who‘ l‘fi‘fivviim‘. ‘N‘ . -. ..;« A .‘ ‘ -

 

He gave a glance around. The candle was flicker-
ing fittuliy on the table; Pearl is. u n the floor.
a parently in a dead swoon; at t e urther end of
t o apartment stood a tall. whitedraped thing. with
aface as white as alabaster, and one finger of the.
right hand was painting directly at the door. Coi’iln
took this all in; then erked the door shut with u
frightful oath. foliowe by a wild sepulchrnl laugh
from the inside.

“ Ten thousand devils!“ he gasped. turning to
Gre g-“ I saw a ghost—that boy's ghost 1"

_ “ et outl" the other whisky captain replied. in-
credulously.

“ But I did 1“ asserted Coffin. shivering from head
to foot, strong, rough man thou 11 he was. " Never
see‘d sech a thing before in my ife. Look in, of ye
don’t h’lieve me. See ‘f the boy‘s body is lyin‘ on the
bed. I didn‘t notice.“

Never having believed in ghosts or su crnatural
things. Gregg cked his hea inside the oor. to be
positive that ‘oi‘iln had not gone stark maid But
what he saw, and the fearful groan he heard, caused
him to drawback and shut the door. with an ex-
ecration. His face was a strange gray, and he
quade in every oint.

“It is a ghost! ‘ he whis ered. his breath comlng
in gasps. “l see’d or, an‘ ieerd et groan. Lord!“

” ‘D ye see the boy :3" gasped Cofiln.

“ Yes—he war lyin’ on ther cot. jest where we left
him. Hain’t budget] sence we tuk him in thar. The
gal‘s Eone clear fainted on ther floor."

“T en et‘s a real ghost of the young im 'il?"

“ 0n course it is. Let‘s go an’ tell t or h0""..
Mebbe we can get them to bu'st the old coop over
inter ther lake. Come, let‘s git 1"

Locking the door the two su erstitious men took
to their heels. and never left 0 running until they
were out of sight of the su )posed haunted barge.

Within the prison Buck nrn Bill and Pearl were
nearly convulsed with laughter. for they had over-
hear the words of the two cowards.

“Hurrahl” and Bill danced about lightly in his
ghostly attire. “ I never bed so much fun in In life.
Warn‘t they scared tlm’? Great Jerusaleml took
‘em to have more sand than that."

“it was a good ruse," said Pearl, laughing Mn:
“but now we must to work. and get out of this be-
fore they come back to us."

“ Is the door locked i"

" Yes. they were thoughtful enough to lock it
after them."

“ Well. then we‘ll have to resort to the saws u" n.
It’s only ten minutes‘ more work to have the mic
cut throng ."

“ Yes, but —hut-—"

“ Oh! yes. I know—you want {our prettycoats, ch?
Excuse me for not thinking of hat before."

He soon had them off, and while he set to work
with the saw again. Pearl took advantage of a dark
corner to resume the wearing of them.

Then she too lent her aid With the saw. and they
both worked faithfully. until the sweat came upon
their faces. And at last their labors Wore rewnrjoii,
for Bill pushed out a portion of the wall about three
feet square. and it to Jpled first onto the barge, and
then fell with a spins 1 into the lake.

“There we are.“ Bill exclaimed. joyfully. " Now,
Miss Pearl. let‘s see of we can’t escape." ‘

Th‘ climbed out of the i‘lSO‘l and found a skiff
await ng them. containing oily ‘Miner, the Nymph
of the Lake. Also a negro, who held the oars.

“ Quick!" Molly cried. joyfully-“Get into this
boat. and we will all for wer leave this vicinity. I
am so glad you succeeded in cutting through."

“80 are wel" Bill said, helping Pearl out of the
craft. “ There—ail right, go ahead, Snmboi“

“ See here. don’t be too free!“ exel'limed the fam-
iliar voice of Turtle Tom. “Originally. I ain't no
blacker than on."

And then t ere was a general hand-shaking. and
exnlanations, while the boat was silently nosmg
out of the bayou.

 

 

Buckhorn Bill. 29

 

Tom had succeeded in gaining the island and re-
portin to Ca taln Coffin without havin his dis-
guise etect and seeing Molly he h enlisted
herin his service, and together they had captured
the tools which had released the two risoners.

“And now we must get awa or Btockton‘s
camp)" the youn trapper said, “ or we want to be
there before the 6 starts, which will be about
three hours before daybreak."

After Turtle Tom had left the camp of the Red
Rifle Team, on his mission to Balsam Island, Cap-
tain Ned Stockton first ascertained from the negro,
Joe Snow, the actual stren h of the bogus emi-
grant camp, and then m o preparations for an
attack. Upon learning that he was liable tobave to
swing from a limb, Snow faithfully promised his
services in behalf of the rifle team, and this made
their number a mum dozen. ~

In the course of an hour everything was in readi-
ness, and the whisky-hunters stole away from camp,
and softly throu h the timber, along the curving
lake—shore tower the camp of the bogus emigrants.

The morning was well advanced, but the emigrant
cam appeared quiet and in repose, when Stockton
and is men first came in sight of it.

Evidenglg the eml rants were improving the time
for a go rest an sleep. Their oxen had been
tethered on the prairie. east of the belt, to graze
until the were needed.

“Let hem stay there!" Captain Ned said. care-
lessly. “They can't go far even if they do fit
loose. Now, then, get ready for business. a
camp is all asleep. and at our mercy. Creep in and
each of you cover somebody. Where there are two
I ing close together let one man covrr them both.

n this way we can make up for their superiority of
numbers, and have one or two men to spare."

The work of stealing into camp without arousin
any of the whims was an extremely difficult an
dangerous one, inasmuch as the breaking of a twig
was liable to awaken one or more, and suc a mishap
was but the signal for a pitched battle.

Step by step crept on the dauntless whisky-hun-
ters, each With his trust repeating-rifle in hand,
and belt-weapons cocked or instant use.

At last, after maybe a half-hour’s stealthy effort,
every person of the bogus emigrants was under
the cover either of a re ating-rifle. or a pair of re-
volvers, and Ca tain ed and two of his nearest
pards, each had wo of the sleefiers covered.

Then Dick Reade and Old lephant began the
3 eration of taking prisoners, without awakening

em.

This was far the most delicate matter of all. for
the slightest touch seemed to disturb the tranquillity
of the sleepers’ repose. Of the enti number. how-
ever. five were securely bound wit being awak-
ened to the realit of their capture.

Butthesixth.a urly,villainoushalf-breed sprung
up, at the first touch, and gave a wild ye] . which
from its fearful volume could do no less than arouse
the remaining sleepers of the camp.

But almost the moment he reached his feet. he
fell back again. under a stunnin blow from Dick
Reade's hard flst‘ while the clic i click! of half a
score of weapon-iocks admonished the remainin
whisk -runners to become inactive. They realize
at a 3 once that they had been caught napping, and
gave up without any violent attem t to escape, al-
though thero was any amount 0 grumbling and

swearirag.
“Bin ’em tight, boys." Stockton ordered, “for
we mustn t let our game escape when there’s so
many legal functionaries in Yankton starving for
the want of a fee. Good luck has been ours so far;
mav'be we can get some of them from the island."
All of the prisoners were securely bound, and
chucked into one of the heavy whisky-wagons; then
hauled b hand to Stockton‘s cam on the Northern
shore, w are they were left in c rge of Old Ele-
phant, while Captain Ned and his gal ant hand went

 

backto the scene of their recent victory. to await
Sine coming of the whisky-boat and the illicit dis-
ers.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
was: CURTAIN ACT or TEE mum—mars.

Bu'r they had to wait a long while. as it seemed to
them for the day dragged. away slowly. and far into
the n ht ere an thing animated was teen upon the
bosom of the la e; and then it was only an em ty
skiff, evidently floating around on the waves at he
will of the breeze.

"I wish they’d hurry up!" stockton growled, as
he and Dick Reade poet d to and fro under the trees
that overhung the eastern bench. “ I want to get
the matter over with as quickly as possible."

“Yes, so do I, for i don’t like the job on one sc-
cotuntrwe’ve got to kill off so many in order to get
a ew. ‘

“True; but maybe we sha'n’t have to drop many
this time."

“ I hope not, for that Ash Stream afiair has
haunted me ever since.“

The night were on, and still the Rifle Team watch-
ed and waited.

 

While explanations were being made. Turtle Tom.

the youn trapper, was Bailing rapidly away from

the slan , through the you S. In ten minutes

{Elegy were clear of it. and out on the surface of the
e

The moon was sinkingto rest, and shed but dim
light upon the lake.

“ You’d better flght wide of the island, Tom," said
Buckliorn Bill, keeping his sharp glances darting
around. “ We don’t want to get a blizzard from the
enemy when we ain't e cting it.“

“ No! you’re right, l i1 ~not with these two an els
in calico on board. But i don't calkylate we’ll ev
an trouble from the cusses."

either did tliey.'for the soon reached the main
land near the location of lockton’s cam . whither
they proceeded. to find it deserted, with t 6 same -
tion of Old Elephant, V» ho was acting guard overt no
wagon-load of risoners.

And the old eliow was nearly tickled to death to
see the gun Buckhorn among the party.

“Old on ers an‘ all his family! ’ he exclaimed.
relaxing his vigilance long enougi to shake hands.
“Aire that you Sweet William—you, wi' yer skuip
on, and your ha i diogomy?"

“Yes, Eleghant, it‘s me, as safe and sound as a
new trade ollarl" Bill replied. “ But, see here:
rherelg'thls Rifle Team of whom Tom has been tell-

us
his They're watchin' fer ther whisky boat over you-
der, near where you first got captured.”

“Did you take the train without any trouble?"
Turtle Tom asked.

“ You bet your life we jest did that—watched
every galoot an‘ galootess asleep, an’ had ’em foul.
as ther Injun sed, when the white man grabbed him
b the skuip. Didn‘t spill a drop of blood, and got
fl teen uv ’em as nice as a pin.”

“ Where‘s the nigger?”

“ Oh, he‘s tumbled in over there with the boy:‘.
Guess" he's just as white, in his inwards, as any

us.

“ Young ladies!" Buckhorn Bill said, turning to
Pearl and Molly. with a courteous how, “we must
needs leave you here in charge of Old Elephant. now
while we go and assist in the ca ture of the rest 0
this whisky band. Later, I sha see that you ho'h
are conducted to a place of safety, far from here.”

Then. Bill and Turtle Tom turned their footsteps
toward the whereabouts of the Red Rifle Team.

“ I b’lieve them gals sue the lost darters of an old
gent we‘ve got amon us," said Turtle Tom as they
tram ed along. “I is name is Major Sterling, an'
he‘s in the loser of a airo’ female children, that
aire by this time about t 0 age 0’ them back yonder.

 

 

30 Buckhorn Bill.

 

An‘. it turns out that this Ca . Coffln.who is ther
mayor's brother. war the a actor of the gals, in
the r childhood. sum fifteen or less years silo—I
don‘t jest remember the time. Now. et looks li 'ely
to me that the gals are his’n."

“ Undoubtedly they are. and if so. Turtle Tom‘s
solid fer one'of 'em. seein's he‘s penetrated the biz-
ness and been the means of restorin‘ them to their

arent l" assented Buckhorn, with a laugh. “ Reckon
. iss Molly has got plenty of admiring glances fer a
fellow about your statter.”

"Ye ain’t jealous, Bill?"

“ Pooh! no; jealousy ain‘t one o‘ my failings.
ReckonI ken git along several years yet. wi'out an-
nexing m self."

“Ohl t at'll do to tell. but I‘m bettin‘ you cop in
one of these lovely sisters."

“ Then you bet on the wrong hoss." said Bill, grim-
ly. “Don‘t hanker much after females—cf I had
poor mother and little Maoliu back, I‘d be content'"
and the young Scou e’s voice grew suddenly chok-
ed. and tears filled h s handsome eyes.

“ I reckon you won't get over that soon, eh. Bill?"
said Turtle Tom, sympathizingly.

“ Get over it! No ! Myer!" and he became silent
and stern.

At last they were amused by the challenge of an
outfiosted picket, and then admitted to the presence
of t e rangers.

Turtle Tom was welcomed back with enthusiasm,
and Captain Ned Stockton had a. heart handshake
with Buckhorn Bill. for the two were 0 d friends of
one summer-time’s buffalo-hunt upon the plains.

In less than an hour a h e reflection of light
curved around the island: the urge was coming.

“ What power of locomotion have they for the
craft, Tom i" Captain Ned asked, pacing to and fro
in front of his men. whom he had ordered to fall
back in under the cover of the woods.

“A steam boiler and engine, which runs a stern
paddle~wheel. The barge is guided by awheel in
the engine house." replied Tom.

" What would you advise. as you know pretty well
how matters are conducted?"

“ You must first build a bonfire on the beach yon-
der. and then back the wagons down to the water’s
edge. This is to deceive them into believing that all
is right. Conceal your men in the wagons, and the
moment the rascals are near enough to secure a
good aim. open on them. It is your only hope. for
if you try to capture them you’ll most likely get the
worst of it."

“ I don‘t like to slaughter them of! like that. I’d
rather fight ’em face to face. and fairly!" protested
Stockton.

“And get licked like blazes!“ retorted the trap-
per. “Well, if you like to make yourself an open
target. go in an' get the worth of lyour money. I‘ll
stay back in under cover and watc you."

This decided the matter. By Stockton‘s orders a
huge bonfire of dry material was kindled on the
beach. and the wagons were backed down, so that
the hind wheels rested in the edge of the lake.

The men were then divided into three companies,
and stationed in the center tier of wagons. Stockton.
Buckhorn Bill, and 'l‘urtle Tom commanding.

By this time the barge had approached to within
the distance of a quarter of a mile. and distinctly
visible were the barrels, and upon these lounged
perhags a score of men.

As 9 watched the barge approaching. and the
men lying upon the barrels. a strange e ression
came over the features of Buckhom Bill. an he left
his own wagon and entered that of Turtle Tom.

“Have you made the discovery?" he demanded.
excitedly.

d ‘ANol—what discovery?" young Frailey asked, won-
e n y.

" at those men on the barge are lying in rather
unnatural positions, and have not moved since they
came in sight."

" Well—what is there strange about that?“

 

 

 

“To me, there is much. I believe that eirery man
mnr yonder is dead! Look. and see for yourselfl"

There was certainly something strange in the mat-
ter. for none of the rufflans moved. Naturally there
would be a stir on board upon a'12Pproaching the shore.

The news was quickly spre [0 Captain Stockton.
and to the rest of the men. and the approaching
craft was regarded with curiosity. Soon t became
apparent beyond a doubt that those on board were
dead, for bloody wounds could be seen in several of
the foreheads.

As soon as they were all satisfied beyond a doubt,
the watchers left the wagons, and gathered on the
beach. Slowly the barge came nearer to the shore,
and at last grounded upon the silvery sands.

Then the whisky-hunters went aboard, and gazed
about them. There was but one living outlaw on
board. and he was lying in the cabin prison where
Buckhorn had been confined.

it was the acting chief of the illicit whisky ring-
the notorious and fiendish leader of the Press-Gang.
Ca lain Collin.

ii the other outlaws had either been stabbed in
the forehead by some sharp instrument. or bad boon
killed b a tiny shot which had 13ft a pin-head mark
of bloo upon the breast just over the heart. They
had evidently been killed and placed in positions to
suit the strange avenger.

“ This is a terrible destruction. said Buckhom
Bill, with a shudder. “ Tom. go shut off the steam.
and drag out that wretch, Captain Coffin."

Young Frailey obeyed. and in five minutes the
captain of the whisky outlaws lay helplessly before
his enemies, upon the deck of the barge. unmasked.

He was a fierce. brutal~looking man in facial as-

ct, with bloodshot eyes. a cruel mouth and an
iron-gm mustache; a man. at a glance. who would
not hesi ate at the commission of any crime.

He flushed and flinched uneasily beneath the stern
accusing gaze of the Boy Scourge, and a grayer
shade came upon his countenance.

“ Villain. rufflan, human wolf l" Buckhom Bill
said. hoarsely, "you are at last at the end of your
rope. You have committed your last crime-the
last of your inhuman outrages, here upon the earth.
I want to know who it was who did this work of
destruction. that we might not have it to do?"

“ That devil who has ever haunted us since two
years ago—Old Death Shadow!" replied the outlaw.
fiercely. “ While I was engineering the craft, he
came aboard, killed my men wi 11 that needle-gun of
his. made me a prisoner. and then escaped."

“ Then I say hurray for Old Death Shadowl" cried
Turtle Tom. “ Here. Major Sterling—we’ve at that
outlaw brother of yours; d‘ye want to let h taste
the toe of your brogan?”

“ No,“ re liefihe ma'or, coming forward and

n

gazing cold y n at t e prisoner. “ I have no
pity for the wre c who murdered my wife and stole
away my children. Let the law and God deal with
him. for I will not lay a hand upon him."

“Hal ha!“ sneered Collin. “but ifI am not freed
you will never get those children. and I swear it!”

“But there is just where you make a mistake!“
said Turtle. Tom, triumphantly. “ for I have Mr.
Sterling's two daughters in my possession now—the
two girls who have been known as Pearl Prescott
and Mollv Miner. and they are the children you once
sold to Whiser Bill for a pair of rifles!”

“Then, God be praised that I am at last to be
restored to my chi'drenl" devouin said the major.

A consultation was held u n the barge, and it
was universailv decided that t was the best plan to
take Coffin with the rest of the captured outlaws. to

untterville, and put them under guard, and then
re urn to the lake to besiege the remaining distillers
on Balsam Island.

The dead rufflans were. by Stookton‘s orders
buried in the forest. and the illicit whisky emptied
into the lake.

Then. with Coffin in cha e, the Rifle Team and
Buckhorn returned to the or ginal camp of the team.

 

Buckhorn Bill. 31

 

while Turtle Tom remained in the vicinit of the
barge to keep watch and learn what be con d.

At the camp there was a joyous meeting l'wtwcen
Ma or Sterling and his two twin daughter -—t‘ur he
ha no doubt, after a glance, that they indeed were
his daughters. Lewis Sterling. the Captain Coi‘fln of
our narrative. did not deny but that they were the
children he had stolen away, when he saw that it
was no longer possible to deny their identity.
We might dwell at length on the gladsome reunion,
but choose simply to record it.

On the second da after the ca Lure of Captain
( ‘oflln, Captain Ned tockton and is so-called Rifle
Team. took their prisoners, sixteen in number, from
the camp on the lake-shore, and set out in the now
useless whisky train of wagons, for Squattervnlle.
Major Sterling was not desirous of longer staying in
the wilderness, and so, with his two charming daugh-

, of whom he was so proud, he accompanied
the train to Burnham‘s colony, where he declared it
his intention to permanently locate. on one of the
choice growin ranches, several of which he owned.

Buckhorn 8 ll, Turtle Tom and Old Elephant were
left at the lake-shore, to keep an eye out for the re-
maining outlaws upon Balsam Island. But though
they kept a vigilan watch upon the lake and island.
no stir of animated life was seen. The greatest
quiet prevailed, like on a Sabbath day Even the
birds were less musical than usual. and in the f’rcst
upon the shore, a strange hush and silence prevailed.

“I’ll bet my rights to ther next Presidency, that
that: ain’t a cussed outlaw on that island 1” said Tom
Fralley, as the three met at the barge.

“ Thar ain’t so much as one o‘ the suckers sneez-
ed over thar, I tell ye.”

“But they may be thar, though,” replied Buck-
horn Bill, “ although I am inclined ter ther belief
that they’ve given us the slip. It would be a bitter
pill {or Stockton.“

" Oh, I don‘t know. 1’ don’t believe he set much
store on them what’s left over there. He‘s already
got a fat figure out of the sixteen he has got."

‘ “ Tlillle, but it would do me good to see him get
em a .”

This conversation took place in the afternoon of
the day after Stockton's departure.

A fierce rain and wind-storm was brewin , gather-
ing every minute preparatory to a final out urst.

hey took shelter in one o the rude cabins oflthe
barge. Soon the storm came tearing down from the
sky, and through the woods with unprecedented

u .
e rain fell in torrents, and the wind howled and
shrieked like an infuriated demon in chains.

Great trees were broken oil! or torn up by the
roots, and limbs, sticks and even stones were blown
through the air with a terrible force. in less than
five minutes the lake had risen as many inches, and
the barge was suddenly swept ofi into the storm-
tossed waters.

“ ghi this is a leetle ther wn‘st ouandarica} decil-
kilty war everml" granted Old Elepha‘ t, staring
at his two companions with a startled expression of,
countenance. “G‘wine ter be anuther Antediluve,
ain't than”

“Guess not," Bnckhorn Bill replied. “Et‘ll soon
blow over, and We’ll be all right.’

It did soon blow over, but when the setting sun
again broke from the clouds, the barge was beached
hi 1: upon the shioget of Balsam Island!

soon s n came on, the three set forth
through the densg balsam forest, to learn it any of
the outlaws et were on the island.

Not a bun regards had they advanced when, in
a little rocky gl . they came u on one of the most
hogible sights they had ever en fated to meet
w .

it wasa human skeleton bereft of all flesh and
skin, bound to a (young sap) ng. That the man had
been lately kille _. was ev dcnced by an occasional
piece of flesh which was found in the neighbor-how.

 

He had first been murdered, and then the fie-sh had
been cleaved from his body. with knives. It was a
sickening Sight-a sickening realization of the in-
humanity of man toward man. That it was the
work of the whisky outlaws. there could be no doubt.

Near by were the buckskin garments of the vic—
tim. and from one of the pockets thereof. Turilo
Tom brought to light a document, which threw some
light on the subject.

The following is a portion of it:

“ My name is groperly Philip Burnham, originally
the founder of urnham‘s colonfi. Latterlv, when
known at all, it has been as Old eath Shadow, the
man with the silent weapon (which is a needle-gun.
of my own invention) . . . . Two years a oor over,I
was captured h Captain ('oi’fln‘s he lirh Press-
Gang, and force( to work in an illicit whisk y dis.
tillery on the Balsam Island in Loon Lake not many
miles from the settlement or Squattervil e, Dakota.

“1 escaped after two months of the terriblelor-
turing labor, and not wishing to he found by the
hell-hounds again, 1 wontimmcdiately down into the
lower part of the territory. knowing that my family
were well Provided for until m return. Alasi on
my rvturn found that they ha( been murdered by
the Press-Gan ——all except my boy, Izlll, who was
now roaming 0. out on the prairie as a young aven-
ger of his mother‘s and sister’s deaths. I became
an avenger also, and for the last two years have
waged a deadly warfare against the whisk out-
laws. I cannot enumerate all that I have ki led of
them. I have ust sent a cargo of them ashore, on
board a bar e- oad of whisky. Coffin being the only
onrfiwhlo Vwil see shore alive, I left him for my son
to nis 1.

There was much more in detail. and last of all an
appended will, bequeathing all the Burnham wealth
and possessions to Iiucklzorn Bill; but in a nutshell
we have given the main facts brought to light by the
document.

The grief of fatherless, motherless Bill was ter‘
rible. and will be lasting, but he is better able to
stand it than though the affliction had been Visith
up n him at an earlier period of his life.

Captain Ned Stockton and his Rifle Team came
back to the lake, only to be met by Buckhorn Bil
and his two com nnions with the news that the late
storm and 1i htn ng had totally destro ed the Bal-
sam Island istillery, and that the on aws had all
escaped. A week's search for them ensued, but
the were never heard from again.

’1‘ e captured whisky outlaws all received trials at
Yankton, and long sentences, except Cap Coffin
who was one night taken from jail by a party 0
unknown men, and strung up.

The “ service" men known to have been in the

ower of the outlaws, have never been found or
heard from. That they were put out of the way
was evident. ‘

The president of the whisky ring was captured,
and turned out to be a noted speculator of the
West. Ho, with Judge Fowler, received trials, and
ion sentences.

NEW three months a 0 old Major Sterling died.
and on his death bed, fore the Welcome mess. n-
gc-r came to guide him across the dark river. he
joined the hands of Pearl Sterlin and Captain
Stockton, and piquant Molly; and om Frailey, to-
gether. and invoked upon t em his dying blessing
even as the clergytrlnanl prpnounced them man and
wife Lon ma t 9 Eve
Among gloseypresyent were Buckhorn Bill and
Old Elephant.

Of this outh of whom we have been writing and
reading. ear reader, let us as a closing word. We
have not chosen a wholl otitious character in
him. to portray—for th» em, as the author has
proven him to be, is William Bumham, at prrsent
writing, of Yankton, Dakota—the Buckhorn Lill of
our story.

'1‘)“: END.

 

 

 

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